Bad Moon Rising
by ncismom
Summary: A dead naval officer leads to an unexpected reunion with a missing agent; but after a year of living on the streets, will things ever be the same for Tony DiNozzo? Tony D. and L.J. Gibbs, Father/son Last chapters are up!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Bad Moon Rising**

**Author: Patricia**

**Category: Gen**

**Characters: Anthony DiNozzo, Leroy Jethro Gibbs **

**Warnings: Angst, drama, alcohol abuse**

**Spoilers: Various episodes up through season 5 "Requiem". It is AU after that in that Jenny did not die.**

**Summary: A dead naval officer leads to an unexpected reunion with a missing agent; but after living on the streets for over a year, can things ever be the same again for Tony DiNozzo?**

**Part 1**

Awareness came slowly to the inebriated man as he began to regain consciousness, shivering as the dampness of the ground seeped through his thin, ragged shirt. The stench of the stagnant water he was apparently lying in began to assault his senses, but at the moment, he wasn't sure if he had the strength to move. His head was throbbing, but he wasn't sure if he had hit his head on the ground or if the pain was self-induced by the copious amount of alcohol that he had consumed that day.

Opening his eyes, he found himself looking at the darkening sky; the sound of the thunder was in the distance. It took several attempts before the man finally forced himself to sit up and take in his surroundings. Looking to his right, he saw the still form of another man lying next to him, dressed in what appeared to be some kind of uniform. He blinked his eyes several times in an effort to bring the details of the uniform into focus, but it was no use. The only thing he could tell was that it was white, so he assumed that the man was probably in the Navy.

"Too much of a good thing, huh?" he mumbled to the figure lying on the ground.

He rolled over onto his hands and knees and unable to fight the waves of nausea that had been plaguing him, he began to vomit. After he was sure that he was done, he took his sleeve and wiped his mouth. Sitting back on his knees, he swallowed hard, hoping that he wouldn't start throwing up again. The man knew he needed to get to the shelter, but right now, he wasn't even sure he could remember how to get there. Plus, there was the matter of the sleeping Naval officer; he couldn't just leave him there with a storm coming.

The unkempt man shakily stood to his feet. He reached in his pocket for his flask only to discover that it was missing. That container and its contents were his lifeline. It was the only thing that took away his pain; actually, it was the only thing he could afford that took his pain away. "Where is it?" he slurred.

His eyes were drawn to the white uniform. He fell to his knees and began frantically searching the pockets of the uniformed man. "Where is it, you bastard?"

The drunken man felt something wet. Jerking his hand back, he mumbled, "What the…?" He stared at the sticky red substance now covering his hand.

A sense of panic began to overwhelm him; he had to get out of there. He started to stand up but dropped back to his knees when he heard, "Freeze! Baltimore P.D.!"

Despite his blurred vision, he saw two officers approaching him, their guns drawn, pointed directly at him. The man raised his hands, remaining perfectly still. He had learned the hard way that it was in his best interests not to piss off certain members of the Baltimore Police Department.

"What's this about?" he asked, knowing that it was useless to hide the fact that he was intoxicated.

"We'll ask the questions," the first officer informed him.

"Okay, so ask."

"Stand up and move away from the body, smart ass."

His mind seemed as if it were in a fog. "Huh?"

"You heard me," the officer said. "Now, move away from the body."

He tried to stand up but lost his balance. Two rough hands pulled him to his feet and shoved him against the nearest brick wall. He watched as the second officer knelt down to the still body and felt for a pulse.

The second officer shook his head, silently informing his partner that the man was dead. "He's a Navy Officer, Matt. Gunshot wound to the chest."

"Better call NCIS, Gary," Matt Wolford instructed his rookie partner. "You can also tell them that we have a suspect for them."

"A suspect?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, a drunk by the name of…what's your name, boy?"

The young man pinned against the wall suspiciously eyed the officer restraining him. "Todd," he answered.

"Last name, moron?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know your last name? You better be thinking of one by the time NCIS gets here."

"NCIS?"

"Yeah, we've had a few dealings with them. Like I said, if I were you, I'd be coming up with a good reason that you've got his blood on your hands."

Todd looked down at his hands. The officer was right; there was blood on his hands. "I was looking for something that belonged to me."

"What was that?" Wolford pressed.

"A flask. It was mine and I thought that he took it."

Todd winced when the officer tightened his grip. "You killed a Naval officer over a flask of cheap whiskey?"

"No!" Todd shouted. "I didn't kill anybody." He began to struggle against Wolford's iron grip. "He was there when I woke up," he tried to explain. "I didn't even know he was dead until your partner…"

Todd found himself facing the brick wall with his arms being jerked behind his back. He winced as the handcuffs cut into his wrists. "Save it for NCIS," Wolford growled. "You can tell it to them."

This couldn't be happening. He was living his worst nightmare. Todd had always done his best to stay out of trouble, but trouble always seemed to find him. "Am I under arrest?" he managed to ask.

"Not yet. I'm just making sure you don't go anywhere. Now, sit down," the gruff officer ordered.

Todd slid down the brick wall, watching the two officers as they talked amongst themselve. Why was this happening to him? He had done a lot that he wasn't proud of, but what he had done had been necessary for his survival on the streets; he didn't believe that he could actually murder somebody. Drawing up his knees, he rested his aching head and silently wished for a drink.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jethro Gibbs stared out the window that overlooked the Navy Yard, sipping his coffee as he watched the dark clouds roll in, announcing the arrival of a storm. The storm brewing outside was nothing compared to the tempest that had erupted in the Director's office between him and Jenny Shepherd.

***flashback***

"Jethro, it's been over a year," Jenny said.

"I know how long it's been. I can tell you how long it's been to the second, Jen," he growled.

"Then you know what I'm going to say."

"I know exactly what you're going to say and you already know my answer."

"I'm sure that your answer is going to be the same as the last six times I've asked you, but I've got SecNav breathing down my neck to replace DiNozzo."

Gibbs clenched his fist, crushing the empty coffee cup. "I don't care if the President is breathing down your neck, Jen, I'm not replacing him. He's still alive and…"

"How do you know that?" she demanded to know.

"I know what losing a child feels like," the team leader snapped. "Tony isn't dead!"

"DiNozzo wasn't your child, Jethro. He was a federal agent who…"

"He's the closest thing I've ever had to a son!" he proudly declared. "Don't talk about him like he's dead."

"Jethro, are you listening to yourself? It's time for you to let go of your guilt and accept the fact that Tony is gone," she tried to reason.

He could hear the exasperation in the Director's voice, but her obvious frustration did nothing but fuel his anger. "My guilt?" he scowled. "My guilt? I'm not the one who sent him undercover so soon after the La Grenouille fiasco."

"No, you're the one who couldn't even manage a thank you after he saved your life, and the life of Maddie Tyler," she sharply countered.

He glared at his former lover. Gibbs knew that she was referring to DiNozzo's recent heroics that had saved him and Maddie from drowning in the freezing Potomac river. After he had been released from the hospital, his main concern had been making sure that Maddie was all right; he shamefully realized that he hadn't even asked about DiNozzo. The next day that they were both back at work, he had brought Tony a coffee and nodded his thanks. That was all he figured DiNozzo wanted or needed. The words 'thank you' did not find their way to his lips, but surely Tony had known how grateful he was.

"Don't you dare throw that in my face, Jen," the ex-Marine challenged.

"He went in without back up, Jethro," she continued, "because he was worried about you. Did you bother to even check on him afterwards?" She shook her head. "I didn't think so. If you had, you would have known that he had to spend the weekend in bed with a mild case of pneumonia."

Gibbs refused to let Jen continue to bait him. He turned sharply and headed towards the door. "I think we're done here. Until I get some kind of confirmation, I will continue to go on the assumption that Tony is alive and his space on my team will remain unfilled!"

He slammed the door behind him, ignoring the puzzled expression on Cynthia's face. Gibbs bounded down the stairs and went to his desk where he grabbed the fresh cup of coffee that McGee had waiting on him.

"Everything okay, Boss?" Tim nervously asked.

Jethro's gaze fell on DiNozzo's empty desk. "Everything's just fine, McGee. Just fine."

***end flashback***

He fought to tamp down the rage that was still burning with him. Jenny had tried several times before to get him to replace DiNozzo, even going so far as to assign a temporary agent to his team without his consent. It had taken less than an hour for Gibbs to get rid of the agent and Jen hadn't pressed the issue again. Until today.

The sound of his cell phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. "Yeah, Gibbs," he gruffly answered. He listened for a moment and then snapped his phone shut.

He went to his desk and grabbed his gun and badge. "Gear up!" he barked. "McGee, gas the truck, we've got a dead navy lieutenant in Baltimore."

"B…Baltimore?" McGee stammered.

"That's what I said, now let's move!"

Within ten minutes, they were on their way to Baltimore. Gibbs was glad they had a case to help redirect his focus, but he wished that he was going anywhere but Baltimore. Memories of his first meeting with Tony came flooding to his mind as he recalled the cocky police officer who worked with him on a joint investigation. Gibbs had pushed the young man hard, but DiNozzo never wavered or complained. Jethro Gibbs had admired the officer for being willing to sacrifice his career for Gibbs and that was when the NCIS agent had realized that DiNozzo would be a perfect fit for his team.

He heard McGee clear his throat in an effort to get his attention. "Something on your mind, McGee?" he asked.

"We were just wondering if you knew any more details about the case?"

"Just that we have a dead Navy officer and that Baltimore P.D. already has a suspect waiting for us."

"Do we have a name on the lieutenant or the suspect?"

"Nope."

The rest of the trip was made in silence. It was usually Tony who kept the conversation going in an effort to lighten the moods of his teammates, but that casual banter had ceased to exist the day that he disappeared.

Gibbs saw the crime scene up ahead and pulled over next to the parked patrol car. He got out of the truck and began to shoulder his way past the onlookers. The team leader flashed his badge to the two uniformed officers standing guard at the crime scene tape. "Special Agent Gibbs. NCIS."

"'Bout time you got here," the first officer grunted.

Ignoring the jibe, Gibbs asked, "What do you got, Officer…"

"Wolford. Matt Wolford and this is my partner Gary Sims and over there is your dead Navy lieutenant."

Gibbs glanced around the officer to see the body. "All right. My people will take over," he insisted.

"We know how NCIS works. We were told to back off and let you guys handle it."

"I see your Captain still remembers his last dealings with NCIS," Gibbs retorted. He nodded towards the figure against the brick wall of the far building. "Is that our suspect?"

"Yeah," Wolford replied. "He's so drunk that he can't even remember his last name. Apparently killed the guy over some stupid flask full of liquor. I figured that you'd want to interrogate him."

"You figured right."

Calling back over his shoulder to McGee and Ziva, he gave them their specific assignments and began to make his way over to where the lone suspect was seated. He turned to ask Wolford one more question. "Wolford, what's the suspect's name?"

"Says his name is Todd," Matt answered.

Gibbs dismissed Wolford and Sims with a nod and went and knelt down in front of the man. He didn't miss the stench of cheap alcohol on the suspect's clothes nor did he miss the fact that the man's clothes were filthy. God only knew the last time he had a bath. He couldn't see the young man's face, but yet there was something achingly familiar about the way he sat hunched over, his head buried against his knees.

"Todd?"

There was no response. He reached out gently shook the man. "Todd?"

Jethro figured that if the man was as drunk as Wolford had implied, his reactions were going to be slower than normal. He waited patiently as the man slowly lifted his head. Gibbs heart began to beat faster as Todd's face came in to full view.

He stared in disbelief. It couldn't be. Gibbs moved closer to the man called Todd and looked into his eyes. The individual sitting before him was unshaven and reeked of vomit; he had lost weight and the dark circles and the lines of fatigue etched in Todd's face spoke volumes about the life that he had been leading. However, the eyes were the same; although they were no longer full of life, the eyes were those of his senior field agent.

With a trembling hand, Gibbs reached out and pushed the hair out of the younger man's eyes.

"Tony…"


	2. Chapter 2

The young man could hear the bustle of activity going on around him. He kept his head cradled against his knees, trying to ignore the myriad of noises that only seemed to exacerbate the pounding in his skull. Why was this happening to him? He had always made a special effort to stay out of trouble, especially after his first couple of run-ins with the police. Now, he was sitting here, the only suspect in the apparent murder of a naval officer, waiting to be questioned by some agency he had never heard of before.

Todd heard the sound of footsteps approaching; his body tensed as someone knelt down in front of him. The scent of sawdust assaulted his nostrils and he surprisingly found the smell to be oddly comforting. He had to fight the urge to flee as he felt the stranger's eyes upon him. Todd knew that whoever this was would more than likely be disgusted by his unkempt appearance, but it didn't matter; he was used to being viewed as nothing more than a piece of trash.

"Todd?"

A man's voice called out to him, but he refused to move. Gently shaking him, the man said his name once again. "Todd?"

Slowly lifting his head, he blinked his eyes several times, trying to bring into focus the image of the person in front of him. He finally managed to meet the gaze of a man wearing a dark jacket and hat. It unnerved Todd that this man seemed to able to look right through him.

Todd flinched as the man reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes; his hand was shaking and his voice held a slight tremor when he finally spoke. "Tony?"

Confused, Todd mumbled, "Huh?"

"Tony, it's me. It's Gibbs."

He tried to scoot away but Todd quickly realized that he had nowhere to go. The inebriated man felt like a caged animal. His first instinct was to lash out at his captor, but there was something in the man's voice that stopped him.

"Tony, do you know who I am?" Gibbs asked.

"Todd," he drunkenly stammered. "My name's Todd. Not Tony."

"Todd," the older man repeated. "What's your last name, Todd?"

"Don't know."

He wasn't sure if Gibbs believed him. Ever since he had awakened in the alley that night, the only name that he could come up with was Todd. As far as he was concerned, he never needed a last name. It was easier to lose yourself in a crowd if you only had to worry about remembering one name. Of course, there were some days that he woke up with such a hangover that he could barely remember that.

"You don't know, or you don't want to tell me?" Gibbs challenged.

"Don't know," Todd forcibly repeated.

Gibbs nodded. "All right, just take it easy. My name is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and I work for NCiS."

"They said they were…calling you," he said.

"Who?"

"The cops."

Todd noticed the visible lines of anger on the agent's face and he suddenly felt afraid. Surely Gibbs wasn't mad because he didn't have a last name. He jumped when Gibbs patted his knee. "Just hang tight," the agent instructed. "I'll be right back."

He watched with interest as Special Agent Gibbs ran over and grabbed a man and a woman by the arm and drug them behind the truck. When Todd could no longer see him, he laid his head back down on his knees and began to try and make sense of everything that had happened. He silently wished that if Gibbs was going to arrest him that the agent would go ahead and take him in, maybe he would be able to get a hot meal and ride out the storm.

Despite his aching head, Todd couldn't help but wonder why Agent Gibbs had called him Tony. Gibbs had seemed so sure that he was this Tony and part of him felt like he had disappointed the man when he had insisted that he wasn't. He wasn't anyone, or so he'd been told by several individuals. Todd decided that the NCIS agent had to be mistaken, but he had the nagging feeling that Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't make a lot of mistakes.

Todd made the decision that he had to get away from Agent Gibbs as quickly as possibly. It wasn't going to be an easy task considering that he wasn't steady on his feet and he was still handcuffed. Placing his back against the wall, he tried unsuccessfully to stand up. Panicking, he began to pull against his handcuffs, ignoring the biting pain as the metal dug into his flesh.

He closed his eyes, hoping that the world around him would stop spinning long enough for him to get free. Once again, Todd found himself wanting a drink; maybe if he could just simply pass out again, he would wake up later to discover that this was all a bad dream.

"Todd?"

He opened his eyes to find Gibbs standing over him. Did the agent realize that he had been trying to escape? Todd waited for the blow to come, but it never did. Instead, the agent knelt down and removed his handcuffs. "Can you stand?" Gibbs asked.

"Haven't tried in a while," Todd lied.

"Let me help you."

Todd didn't resist as Gibbs helped him to his feet. He immediately began to sway, but the agent was there steadying him so he didn't sink back to the ground. Gibbs slowly led him over to an old crate and sat him down and removed his handcuffs.

"Am…I…under…arrest?" Todd inquired, gritting his teeth against the nausea and pain that still threatened to overwhelm him.

The agent shook his head. "No, not at the moment. I do need to ask you some questions though."

He could hear the agent speaking, but Gibbs' words sounded garbled to his ears. Todd knew that the effects of his latest drinking binge were becoming more obvious and he wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to even function. He nervously licked his lips, "The cops think that…I killed that guy."

"Did you?"

Todd was taken aback by the agent's abruptness. His eyes narrowed as he thought about the Gibbs' question. "I don't…think so," he finally answered.

"Neither do I," Gibbs declared.

"So, can I go?"

"Not yet. I…"

"You said I wasn't under arrest."

"You're not, but I've got to take you into custody so I can get your statement."

"Take it here," Todd demanded.

Gibbs pointed to the sky. "Storm's coming. We have to get finished up here pretty quickly, so I'm going to take you back to NCIS where we can talk."

"Then what?"

"Then after we take your statement, we'll just have to see what happens."

Todd knew that he didn't have a choice but to go with the agent. Gibbs seemed to believe in his innocence, but the man was also convinced that his name was Tony. He wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill that was racking his body. Todd nodded and allowed the agent to guide him towards the black sedan that had just arrived.

He ignored the stares of the others as Gibbs opened the front passenger door for him. Todd thought it was odd that Gibbs didn't put him in the back seat since he was in custody, but he couldn't find it within himself to care where he sat. He laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Maybe he could convince Jethro Gibbs to stop somewhere for a drink; Todd didn't want to be sober when the agent questioned him. Not that he was sober now, but that wasn't the point.

Once they got to wherever it is they were going, he had a feeling that Gibbs was going to try and convince him that he was Tony. He came to the realization that whoever this Tony was, he had to be important to Agent Gibbs. Was Tony his son? That would explain why the older man seemed so desperate. Todd sighed. How had his life suddenly become so complicated?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ziva and McGee stood around the truck and watched the car fade in the distance. They couldn't help but wonder if the man that Gibbs had taken into custody was their colleague and friend, Tony DiNozzo. The team leader had seemed convinced as he had pulled them aside earlier and informed them of his discovery. Gibbs had given the two agents their assignments and had ordered Ziva to secure some kind of transportation for him and Tony back to NCIS. She had called in a favor and an officer from Baltimore PD had brought a car for Gibbs to use.

The Mossad officer returned to shooting the crime scene while McGee continued to collect evidence. She took a picture of a tarnished looking flask lying under the Navy officer's body. "There it is," she muttered.

"What?" McGee asked.

"The two police officers said that Todd…I mean Tony, killed the lieutenant over a flask. There it is," she pointed.

She watched as McGee picked it up with his gloved hand and slipped it into an evidence bag. Ziva could tell that her partner wanted to say something. "What is it, McGee?"

"Do you think it's Tony?" Tim finally asked.

"I couldn't get a good look at his face, but the man in question seemed to be about the same height and build, although he's thinner than Tony was. I don't know, but Gibbs is apparently convinced that it is Tony and I have learned to trust his gut," she said.

"I don't think he looked like Tony at all," McGee whispered.

"Why not?"

McGee shook his head. "I don't know. I just don't think that Tony would allow himself to look like that. He's filthy and his hair is all matted and dirty. And did you see his eyes? He's smashed."

"Smashed?"

"Drunk," McGee explained.

"That may be, McGee, but it doesn't change the fact that this man could be Tony."

He shrugged. "I hope it is, for all our sakes. But we've also got to be realistic about this; what if Tony actually killed this man? Then what? We find him only to send him to prison?"

"You have a point, but I don't think Tony killed him," Ziva said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I…I just don't."

"That's not going to hold up if this goes to court," McGee stated.

Ziva knew McGee was right, but at the moment, the only thing they could do was work together to prove Tony's innocence. "We won't let it get that far," she assured him.

The two continued working in companionable silence for the next few minutes. "Todd," she whispered.

McGee looked up as he bagged the last item of evidence. "What did you say?"

"Tony's alias when he went on his last undercover operation was Todd. Don't you remember, McGee?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Todd Gibbs. That was the name he used. Todd Gibbs. Do you think the Boss remembers?"

Ziva smiled. "I'm sure he does, McGee. I'm sure he does."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gibbs was still reeling from the events of the morning. Part of him couldn't believe that he had found Tony and that he was alive. Although the man seated next to him insisted that his name was Todd, there was no doubt in the team leader's mind that this was Anthony DiNozzo. His first instinct had been to start firing questions at his senior agent in order to find out what happened. But the confused expression on the younger man's face made him think twice. He wasn't sure he would get any answers until Tony sobered up.

After the initial shock of discovering that his missing agent was alive, he went over and briefly told Ziva and McGee what he had just learned. Gibbs knew that they wanted to see Tony for themselves, but he ordered them to keep their distance. He had instructed Ziva to find him a car so that he and Tony could return to NCIS headquarters and then she and McGee could finish working the crime scene. Truthfully, the last thing on Leroy Jethro Gibbs' mind was the dead lieutenant, but he knew that he could count on his team to do their job.

Now, they were on their way back to D.C. and Tony appeared to be sleeping. DiNozzo had managed to wake up and ask for a drink, but Gibbs had just smiled and said, "Not right now." It was Gibbs' intention to pump Tony full of coffee, his kind of coffee, when they got back to NCIS. He would also make sure that DiNozzo got a hot shower, clean clothes, and something to eat.

Gibbs winced when he realized that Tony would need to be examined to make sure that he was all right physically. What was he thinking? All anyone had to do was look at Tony to know that he wasn't well. He grabbed his phone and punched the speed dial number that would connect him with Ducky.

"Duck, where are you?"

He grinned as he heard Ducky fussing at Palmer for his sudden stop. "We're about ten miles away from the crime scene, Jethro. Mr. Palmer missed the detour sign and now we are stuck in construction traffic."

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm getting ready to meet you on the other side. I need you to come back to NCIS with me."

"But I have to go and…"

"That's what you got Palmer for," the agent snapped. "Ziva and McGee will help Jimmy, I need you.

"What on earth is wrong, Jethro?" the ME anxiously inquired.

"I see the truck. Get out and meet me on the other side," he ordered. "I'll pull over and wait on you."

Jethro closed his phone and tossed it on the seat. Ignoring the blaring horns, he swerved across the two lanes of traffic until he reached the emergency stopping lane. He smiled in amusement as he watched the ME carefully cut through the construction site and cross the road on foot, apologizing profusely to those who were swearing and gesturing obscenely at him.

He glanced over to see his passenger looking around, dazed and confused. "I had to make a quick stop," Gibbs explained. He unlocked the door behind him as Ducky slid into the back seat.

Slightly out of breath, Ducky pitched his hat next to him on the seat. "I swear, Jethro, one of these days, you're going to be the death of me. I've done some rather daring things in my time, but this is one I wouldn't care to repeat again. It actually reminds me of the time…"

"Not now, Duck." Gibbs pulled back out in traffic and sped down the highway.

"Of course," the ME agreed.

Gibbs saw Ducky studying the young man sitting beside him. The team leader saw the glint of recognition in the older man's eye. "Duck, I'd like to you to meet…Todd."

"It's a pleasure, Todd."

The young man nodded and closed his eyes again. Within a few minutes, Gibbs could hear Tony's soft snoring, indicating that the agent was sound asleep again. "It's him, Duck. It's Tony. I found him at the crime scene. He doesn't even remember his last name. Just calls himself Todd."

"He looks dreadful, Jethro," the ME observed.

"Yeah."

"Has he said anything at all?"

"Not really. He just asks for a drink every now and then."

"A drink as in…a drink?"

Gibbs nodded. "He had passed out next to our dead naval officer. Baltimore PD found him searching the guy for his flask and saw that he had blood on his hands. They cuffed him and handed him over to us."

He hit the steering wheel in frustration "I don't know what I should do next. He's a suspect, but at the same time…"

"He's Tony," Ducky finished.

"Yeah."

"First thing we need to do is check him over."

"Well, yeah, Duck. That's why I called you."

Nonplussed, the doctor continued. "Secondly, we need to see what he remembers and how far his memory goes back. If he has no memory of his past life and has created this new one, then we could have a new set of problems that is beyond our area of expertise."

"We have to get Tony back, Duck. We have to."

"We will, Jethro," Ducky promised. "We just have to move slowly."

"That's just it, Duck," Gibbs growled. "If the evidence comes back saying that he killed that officer, then we don't have a lot of time. Time is not on our side right now."

Gibbs pressed the accelerator, passing several cars until he could settle into an open stretch of road. Time was running out and he was not any closer to getting any answers to the questions that kept plaguing him. Where had Tony been this past year? What was he doing in Baltimore? Had Tony truly been living on the streets for the last year? DiNozzo looked as if he had aged ten years and it troubled the team leader when he realized that he had no idea how much Tony had been forced to endure, but he was determined to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

Todd felt someone gently shake him, awakening him from his semi-peaceful slumber. He had faded in and out several times during their journey, occasionally catching snippets of the conversation between Agent Gibbs and another man with an accent. Todd was sure that Gibbs had introduced the odd man to him, but at the moment, he could barely remember his own name, much less the name of a total stranger. He figured that Gibbs and the other man were talking about him, trying to decide what to do with him. Their words ran together, becoming a jumbled mess in his mind; the only thing that he knew for certain was that Gibbs was still calling him Tony.

He opened his eyes as Gibbs softly said his name. "Ton…Todd, we're here," the older man announced.

Todd squinted, trying to bring the agent's face into focus. "Wh…Where?"

"Right now, we're still in the parking garage at NCIS," Gibbs replied.

"NCIS?"

"Yeah."

Todd closed his eyes again and laid his head back against the headrest. He just wanted to sleep and he found himself wondering if Gibbs would simply let him take a nap in the car. "Sleep in car?" he managed to ask.

"Nope, I've got some place better," the agent insisted.

"This is pretty nice," Todd slurred as he started to drift off once again.

"Don't go back to sleep, Todd. I really don't want to have to carry you."

The drunken man opened his eyes again. "Then leave me alone."

"Can't do that," Gibbs said. "You're in custody, remember?"

The passenger side door opened and the unusual man with the strange accent stood over him. "Who are you?" Todd wanted to know.

The elderly man smiled at him. "My friends call me Ducky."

"Am I your friend?"

The man called Ducky gently patted his shoulder. "I count you among my dearest friends, young man."

"If you're my friend, why don't I know you?" Todd wondered aloud.

"Your memory is just a little fuzzy, Todd," Ducky assured him. "Give it time; I'm sure that you'll remember our friendship."

Todd shrugged. He couldn't even remember his own last name and here he was being told that he had an actual friend. With the exception of a couple people at the soup kitchen, most of his acquaintances were only interested in taking advantage of him. His so called friends on the streets had quickly learned that he would do almost anything for a drink of whiskey.

"Todd?" Ducky called to him. "Are you all right?"

"'Mm fine," he mumbled.

"Let's get you out of this car then, shall we?"

He didn't resist as Ducky reached in and swung his legs out of the car, but the sudden movement made him feel like he was going to throw up again. Todd felt two sets of hands pull him out of the car. The unexpected movement found his stomach rebelling and he began to try and pull out of the firm grasp of the two men. He fell to his knees and quickly discovered that he had nothing left in his stomach to expel; dry heaves racked his body as he silently wished to die.

After a few minutes, Todd was helped back up to a standing position as Gibbs and Ducky draped his arms across their shoulders. He looked at Gibbs and then turned his attention back to the elderly man with the kind face. What was his name again? Rooster? Goose? Duck? Ducky! That was it. He nodded his head towards Gibbs. "Am I…his friend…too?"

Ducky smiled at him again. "Yes, you are."

He allowed the two agents to help him to an elevator. Where were they taking him? The doors opened to the small lift and the trio slowly entered. As soon as the doors closed, Todd closed his eyes. He hated small places ever since…No! He wouldn't think about that. Todd pushed the memory to the back of his mind.

"Todd, you all right?" Gibbs asked.

The young man jumped as the agent forced him back to the reality of the moment. Why did these two men keep asking him if he was all right? "Uh…yeah…no…don't like small places," he stammered.

Todd didn't see the silent exchange of concern between Gibbs and Ducky. It was all he could do to concentrate on remaining upright as the two men held onto him.

"We're here," Gibbs whispered in his ear as the elevator came to a stop.

Gibbs and Ducky slowly led him into a room that almost looked like the hospital clinic that he had gone to several times to get patched up. He let them to lead him over to what Todd assumed was a bed. As they helped him upon the bed, he began to secretly hope that Ducky was going to let him stay there and sleep at least for a little while.

"Todd," Ducky began. "I want to examine you and make sure that you're not hurt."

"'Mm fine," he repeated. "Just sleepy. You're a doctor?"

Ducky nodded. "Yes, I am and I would feel better if I could come to that conclusion myself, my dear fellow."

Todd ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I should've known."

"You should have known what, Todd?"

"Always a catch."

"There's no catch, Todd," Ducky tried to reason. "Jethro and I are concerned about you. We just want to make sure that there's nothing wrong with you aside from…well aside from…"

"Being drunk?" Todd finished.

He saw a grin spread across Gibbs' face. Todd wasn't sure what the agent found so funny, but it didn't matter; he was used to being laughed at by others.

"I guess that's one way of putting it, my dear boy," Ducky conceded. "Now, do I have your permission?"

"Can I have a drink?"

"I'll have Jethro fetch you something."

"All right," Todd reluctantly agreed, "but nothing funny."

"I will fully explain everything that I do before I do it," the older man promised.

Todd nodded and watched as Ducky pulled Gibbs off to the side out of his earshot. He was still uneasy about this examination that the doctor seemed intent on doing and the fact that the two men were being so nice to him completely unnerved him. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into? When people were nice to him, they usually wanted something. So, what did these two men want? He couldn't imagine either one of these men actually wanting anything that he had to offer. Todd figured that in time, Gibbs and Ducky would figure out that he wasn't worth their time and then he could go back to his life on the streets.

The images of the dead naval officer began to play in his mind. How could he be so stupid? Why did he keep forgetting that Gibbs had taken him into custody? They were looking for a scapegoat; someone to blame for the murder of a man that he didn't even know. Todd knew that he had committed more crimes than he would care to admit, but he would never resort to killing someone. Although he had considered it at one time, there was something that always prevented him from crossing that line. Had something in him finally snapped? Had he killed that man?

Todd sighed. "I guess I'll find out soon enough."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gibbs reluctantly left Tony in Ducky's capable hands; his primary concern now was getting some coffee and some type of nourishment for the young man. They had agreed that before Gibbs could begin to piece together what had happened in Baltimore, it was imperative to get Tony sobered up enough that he could hopefully remember what had happened. He just hoped that the evidence that Ziva and McGee were gathering didn't implicate Tony in the murder. Of course, knowing DiNozzo's luck…Gibbs shook his head to force those memories out of his mind. He believed in Tony and he had to make sure that his faith remained strong.

He was now on his way to see Abby to tell her that Tony was alive. Next to him, Abby had taken Tony's disappearance the hardest. She and Tony had always enjoyed a unique and special relationship and now a void had been created in the Goth's life that she had attempted to replace by creating a shrine for DiNozzo in her lab. She had pictures of Tony covering one entire wall: but it was the episodes of Magnum, P.I. as well as the James Bond movies that DiNozzo loved that were downloaded on her personal lap top, which she would watch over and over, that spoke volumes of how much Abby missed Tony.

Ducky was going to need her to run some blood tests and Gibbs wanted her to be prepared before she saw Tony. He knew that she had seen DiNozzo drunk before, but she had never seen him like this. His senior agent very seldom would drink until he was smashed unless he was with his frat buddies or after a particularly difficult case, but to see Tony craving alcohol like it was food was almost too much to bear.

As he headed towards the lab, he dialed McGee's number and instructed him to pick up several black coffees and some soup before they returned. He quickly hung up to avoid answering any of the younger man's questions, mainly because he didn't have any answers. Gibbs hadn't missed how McGee and Ziva looked at Tony. Their expressions were a mix of disbelief, sadness, joy, and disgust; he hoped that he didn't have to remind them to school their features around Tony. DiNozzo wasn't going to need their pity; he was going to need their help.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs walked into Abby's lab to find her sipping on a Caf-Pow as she stood staring at Tony's picture on the plasma. He moved to stand behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Abs?"

She whirled around and set her Caf-Pow down. "Gibbs!" she exclaimed. "Back so soon? Where's my evidence?"

"Ziva and McGee are bringing it," he answered. "I came back early."

"Why?"

Gibbs took her by the shoulders and gently sat her down. "You should sit down for this."

Abby licked her lips nervously. "Gibbs, you're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, Abby, but I need you to listen to me."

He waited until he was sure that he had Abby's undivided attention. "When we got to the crime scene, Baltimore PD had a suspect in custody. I went over to talk to him and discovered that it was Tony. I…"

Gibbs didn't get to finish his sentence. Abby jumped up out of her seat. "Where is he?" she frantically asked. "Where's he been? Oh, my god, is he all right? Of course, he's all right; you just said you talked to him. Wait a minute; did you say he was a suspect in a murder? How's that possible? Tony wouldn't kill someone, I mean not unless he had to. I know that he's killed people before, but he wouldn't do it in cold blood."

He held his hand up interrupting her tirade and then pointed to the chair. She started to protest, but he gave her a stern look and she fell silent and sat back down. "I told you that you need to listen to me."

"Sorry," she said.

He smiled as she made the motion of zipping her lips. "Ducky and I have brought him back and he's in autopsy now so Duck can check him over," Gibbs continued. "Tony's evidently been living on the streets for at least a few months; he's doesn't look like the same DiNozzo. He doesn't know who he is and he doesn't know who we are right now; he goes by the name of Todd."

Gibbs took a calloused thumb and wiped the tears off of Abby's cheeks. "I need you to be strong. Ducky will be sending you some blood work to analyze so we can find out if there's anything physically wrong with Tony other than…"

She unzipped her lips. "Other than what, Gibbs?" Abby wanted to know.

"He's apparently been drinking a lot lately. Right now, he's so drunk, he can barely stay awake long enough to carry on a conversation."

"He's drunk?"

The team leader nodded. "Yeah, I'm afraid so."

"Unless he's with his frat brothers, he usually…"

He gently squeezed her hand. "I know, Abs. What I need you to do is when you see him, don't pressure him. Be his friend."

"That's easy to do."

"He's not too accepting of strangers right now."

"He'll get his memory back," Abby declared.

"I hope so, Abs."

"Positive thoughts, Gibbs," she urged. "Positive thoughts."

"I'm trying, Abby."

"Even though we don't know what happened, at least we know he's alive," Abby reminded him. "We can help him put the pieces back together again, Gibbs. I know we can."

"Be sure to pass on your optimism to McGee and Ziva. We all need to be on the same page."

"Yes, sir," she saluted.

"Don't call me sir, Abby."

"Yes, ma'am."

He grinned at their longstanding joke. "I'm going to talk to the Director," he informed her. "I'll be back in a little while."

"I'll go and see if Ducky needs any help," Abby cheerfully suggested.

"Abby, I don't…"

"No pressure," she promised.

Gibbs nodded his approval. He couldn't blame Abby for wanting to see for herself that Tony was indeed alive. Personally, the last thing he had wanted to do was leave autopsy, but DiNozzo seemed more at ease with Ducky, at least for now, so he had left to take care of some other matters.

The former Marine gave Abby a kiss on her forehead and headed towards the elevator. "Don't overstay you're welcome," he warned.

"Maybe I should tell you the same thing."

"What? I'm just going to tell Director Shepherd that Tony has been found."

"Are you going to tell her that he's a suspect in the murder of a naval officer?"

He grinned and gave Abby a wink. "I don't know if I'll remember that part."

The door opened and he stepped in, pushing the button that would take him to the Director's office. He was going to enjoy making Jen eat her words. She was so convinced that Tony was dead and it was going to be a pleasure to prove her wrong. Their relationship had been strained after he had discovered that she had used Tony for her own personal vendetta. She had destroyed the first real love that DiNozzo had ever experienced, scarring the young man for life. Gibbs hadn't forgiven her for exploiting Tony and the agent's disappearance had only widened the rift between him and Jen.

As the lift stopped, the door opened to reveal Director Jenny Shepherd in front of him. He met her icy stare as she crossed her arms. "I assume you were on your way to see me and inform me that you found someone who could be Agent DiNozzo."

"No, I was on my way to inform you that I have found Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and you can tell the replacement that you have lined up that his or her services will not be required after all," the team leader growled.

"Really? How do you this, Jethro? How do I know that you're not grasping at straws?" she argued.

"The man down in autopsy is Tony DiNozzo. I would bet my life on it."

"I'm sure that Ducky or Abby is going to do a D.N.A. test to confirm his identity."

His eyes narrowed as his anger and frustration began to fester. "I'm sure they will, Madame Director. However, I don't need a scientific test to tell me that my senior field agent is alive and well. If you recall, I never accepted the fact that he was dead."

"I'm well aware of that Agent Gibbs," she retorted. "For your sake, Jethro, I hope that this man is Tony."

"Really? I'm kind of surprised to hear you say that, Jen."

He stood his ground as she entered the elevator and hit the button that would take her to autopsy. Gibbs reached out and hit the emergency stop button. "You're not going down there, Director."

"Why not?"

"He's getting examined by Ducky. Tony doesn't need an audience. How did you know about this anyway?"

"I received a sit rep from Ziva and McGee," she admitted. "Now, since you don't want me to see Tony, perhaps you would like to answer a few questions."

"Such as?"

"I'm curious to know when you were going to tell me that the man downstairs doesn't even know his name or that he even works for NCIS; or when were you going to tell me that this man is the only suspect in the murder of a Navy lieutenant."

"He didn't do it, Jen," Gibbs seethed.

"How do you know? Where's the evidence that says he didn't do it? McGee and Ziva are just now getting back," she pointed out. "You have no idea if our John Doe killed the lieutenant or not!"

"What do you want from me, Jen?" Gibbs shouted, not caring that his voice was echoing inside the elevator.

"I want you to get your head out of the clouds and think like an agent, Jethro. You have a job to do and you need to lay aside your personal feelings and do it. You can't treat this man any different than you would any other suspect in a murder investigation." She took a deep breath. "Jethro, I sincerely hope that you're right and this is Tony and I hope that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but if this man is DiNozzo, and the evidence convicts him, what are you going to do?"

Gibbs hit the switch that restarted the elevator. "Tony didn't kill that man. You know it and I know it. Until you can prove otherwise, Director, you better stay the hell away from me and especially from Tony."

The door opened on the floor that housed the Director's office. "I suggest you go back to your office, Director. We will let you know when we have something; but if I were you, I'd go ahead and start working on that formal apology that you'll be issuing to Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo once he recovers.

"An apology? This from the man that says apologizing is a sign of weakness."

"Unless you've ruined somebody's life," he quickly added as the door shut, separating him from the Director. The team leader didn't care that Jen was probably fuming by now; as far as he was concerned, she need to sit and stew for awhile. Maybe then she would actually start considering someone else's feelings other than her own.

"That went well," he mumbled. Turning his back to the door, he hit the wall with his fist. "Damn it!" How dare she? How dare she believe that, even with amnesia, Tony could kill somebody?

He glanced at his watch. McGee and Ziva should be checking in evidence right about now. He would get Abby to work on it right away, knowing that the sooner that they cleared Tony's name; the sooner they would be able to put this behind them and help DiNozzo focus on remembering the life that he left behind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all for the incredible response to this story. I appreciate your kind words and support, it really keeps the inspiration flowing. I hope you enjoy the next post!**

Abby stood in the doorway, trying to gather the courage to enter autopsy. She had been so excited to learn that Tony was alive and had wanted to see him, but now she wasn't sure that it was such a good idea. Gibbs had said that Tony didn't remember anything or anybody and she had to admit that she was nervous. She and Tony had always been close and they had never had any problems coming up with things to talk about, but now she had no idea what to say to him.

She couldn't really see his face thanks to his unruly hair obscuring his features. His shirt was ripped in several places and a blood stain covered the front of it; his pants were stained and in tatters as well. He wore a pair of worn out work boots that were at least two sizes too big for his feet. His attire was a far cry from his usual designer labels.

Ducky was conversely quietly with the disheveled young man and Abby could tell that whatever the ME was saying was only agitating Tony. She saw his whole body tense and the frustration that he was feeling reverberated throughout the room. Abby took a couple of more steps forward, hoping that she could hear the discussion between Ducky and Tony. The older man was apparently trying to convince Tony to take off his clothes and wrap himself in a sheet so he could examine him better; of course, DiNozzo was protesting.

"They're my clothes," Tony growled.

"I promise you that we'll take good care of them," Ducky assured him. "In fact, I'll get you some new ones…"

"Don't want new ones."

"Why not, Todd?" the ME asked.

"'Cause those are mine; besides, I can't pay for new clothes." Tony dropped his head and Abby heard him mumble, "Maybe a drunk, but…I…got a little…pride."

She saw Ducky pat Tony on the shoulder. "It's all right, my boy," the doctor said. "We'll work something out. Isn't that right, Abigail?"

The Goth blinked in surprise. How had the ME known that she was lurking just inside the doorway? Ducky's back had been to her and she had gone to great lengths to remain quiet. She briefly wondered if the doctor had been taking lessons from Gibbs.

Abby slowly walked towards the table where Tony was sitting. She could see his eyes peeking out from his matted bangs, nervously shifting his gaze between her and Ducky. Abby smiled as she approached him; she was now able to see his face and despite the smudges of grime and his sunken cheekbones, she couldn't deny that this man was her friend. He reeked of vomit and alcohol, but this was Tony and it was taking all the self restraint she could muster not to throw her arms around his neck and pull him into one of her infamous hugs.

"I'm so glad you've joined us, Abby," Ducky greeted, relief evident in his voice.

"Thanks, Duckman," she replied with forced cheerfulness.

"Let me introduce you to my new friend," the ME insisted. "Abby Scuito, this is Todd."

Abby extended her hand, hoping that Tony didn't pick up on her brief hesitation. "It's nice to meet you, Ton…Todd."

When Tony took her hand, she was immediately aware of how cold his hand was, as well as the fact that he was trembling. "Are you cold, Todd?" she gently asked.

"A little," he confessed "It's…kind…of chilly in…here."

She nodded in agreement, never taking her eyes off of Tony. With her other hand, she soothingly rubbed his arm, trying not to notice that his shirt was nearly threadbare. "It might help to get out of these clothes and into some clean ones," Abby suggested.

"These are mine," he stated again. "It's all I…have."

Abby fought back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. "Well, how about we make a trade. We'll get you some new ones for your old ones and then you'll have a new outfit; not that there's anything wrong with your old ones, except for the fact that they've got holes in them and they're dirty. But, if that's the way you like them, that's fine because holes are in style and…"

"Do…you…always talk this much?"

"Yes."

"Thought so."

"Todd, please," she begged. "We just want to help you."

"Why?"

She was taken back by Tony's question. There was so much pain and despair in that one word that Abby could no longer hold back her tears. "Why what?" she finally managed to ask.

"Why do…you…want to…help me?"

Abby could easily think of a thousand reasons that she wanted to help Tony, but she knew that she had to answer carefully or he would pull back into his shell. He seemed to be willing to open up to her and she didn't want to do anything to break that bond that was forming between them.

Glancing at Ducky, who with a slight nod, indicated that she was handling the situation well, Abby answered, "Because everybody needs help from time to time and friends are always there for each other."

She waited with baited breath for Tony to respond. He looked away from her as if he were trying to process everything that she had said. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Tony squeezed her hand and nodded his consent.

"Okay," he mumbled.

"Thank you, Todd," Abby said. "Thanks for letting us help you."

Tony shrugged. "You're welcome, I guess."

Abby felt a twinge of sadness when Tony pulled his hand from her grasp. She watched her friend attempt to unbutton his shirt, his fingers unsuccessfully fumbling with buttons as he cursed under his breath.

"Damn fingers. Won't…work…right," Tony muttered.

"I can help you if you want me too," Abby suggested.

Tony shyly grinned. "I…I'm all thumbs…can't see the buttons."

She returned his smile and slipped on a pair of gloves. Abby had known all along that she would have to take Tony's clothes and examine them for evidence, especially since there was blood on his shirt. She was thankful that Tony didn't question her motives for putting the gloves on; she would have hated to tell him what she was going to have to do with his clothes.

Abby began to unbutton his shirt, silently hoping that he would spout off some classic DiNozzo response. She would give anything to hear Tony say, "Will you respect me in the morning, Abs?"

Instead, he just sat there, his eyes glazed over, struggling to stay awake.

"You've had a pretty rough day," she said.

"I…guess so. Don't remember…much of it."

She gasped when she slipped Tony's shirt off. An assortment of bruises, both old and new, littered DiNozzo's chest and by Ducky's reaction, she knew that Tony's back had similar markings. Abby didn't want to think about what or who had caused those bruises; it was obvious that Tony's life on the streets had not been easy.

Taking the shirt, she placed it in the evidence bag and sealed it. Noticing Tony's flushed cheeks, she turned her back to Tony in order to give him some privacy as he took off his boots and pants with Ducky's help. It was odd to imagine DiNozzo being so modest. Once Ducky had covered him with a sheet, she gathered his pants and put them in a bag as well. She felt like she was treating Tony like a criminal.

She picked up the boots and gathered the bags that contained Tony's clothes. "I'll go and get you some more clothes while Ducky checks you over," Abby informed him.

"You're coming back?" Tony asked.

"Of course I will."

"Could you bring me a drink? That Gibbs…fella was 'posed to bring me something. Hadn't seen 'im yet."

Abby smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

She turned to leave when Tony called out to him.

"Abby?"

She walked back over to him. "Yeah?"

"Nice tatts…"

"Thanks."

"Always…wanted one."

Abby set the boots down and took Tony's hand, gently squeezing it. "You let Ducky check you over and make sure you're all right. When you're feeling better, we'll see about getting you one."

Tony nodded as he lay down on the table. "Nice to have a…friend."

She brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Yes, it is. I'll be back," Abby promised.

Abby swallowed hard when Tony whispered, "Reminds me of a movie."

"Which one?" Abby pressed.

She never received a response before Tony drifted off to sleep. "The Terminator with Arnold Schwarzenegger," Abby answered.

"Thank you, Abby," Ducky said. "He seems to be much more at ease with you than he is with me or Jethro. It seems that he doesn't feel as threatened by a woman."

"Evidently he hasn't seen Ziva yet," Abby quipped.

"Good point."

She grabbed the boots again and headed towards her lab. Abby would drop the clothes off in her lab and then find Tony some clean clothes. She knew that he used to keep several shirts in his drawer and a complete change of clothing in his locker. Gibbs had been forced to clean DiNozzo's locker out, but the team leader had stored Tony's clothes in his own locker, stating that he didn't want to hear his senior agent whining if something happened to his Armani suit.

Abby needed to talk to Gibbs. So much was going through her mind that she was having a difficult time sorting it out. Ducky had said that Tony seemed more at ease around her. Was it the remnants of their long time friendship subconsciously implanting themselves in Tony's mind or was it simply the fact that he needed a friend and he didn't feel threatened by her? Right now, it didn't matter. First thing she would do is help clear her friend's name and then when he was stronger, she would keep her promise and take him to get a tattoo.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gibbs stood behind McGee and Ziva as they checked in the last of the evidence. Like always, he managed to sneak up behind them without their knowledge and was able to capture a snippet of their conversation.

"So, what do you think, Ziva?" McGee asked.

"About what?"

"About everything that's happened today," Tim answered. "I mean we find Tony after he's been missing over a year and he's the only suspect we have right now in the murder of a Naval officer. Not to mention, that his flask was found under the lieutenant and…"

"And I think we shouldn't sink to conclusions," Ziva said.

"Jump," McGee corrected.

Ziva rolled her eyes at her colleague. "Whatever. Although the evidence so far at least puts Tony at the crime scene, we should keep in mind that we don't know the whole story yet."

"An excellent point, Officer David," Gibbs interjected.

Both agents whirled around to face the team leader. Still fuming from the discussion that he had just had with the Director, Gibbs was struggling to remain in control of his temper. The fact that the other members of his team apparently doubted Tony was almost more than he wanted to consider at the moment.

"Agent McGee," the former Marine began.

"Yes…sir," the younger agent stammered.

"I have just come from talking with Director Shepherd and I'm not in the best of moods."

"I can see that…"

"Good. So, I don't have to tell you how pissed off I'm going to be if I ever hear you doubting DiNozzo's innocence again," Gibbs warned.

"No sir, but I was just…"

"He was just reviewing the events of the day," Ziva spoke up.

"Did I ask you to speak, Officer David?"

"No, you did not," she replied, not daring to look at him.

He moved closer to the two agents. "We are a team and one of our team is hurting. The last thing I expected to have to do is give you both a pep talk. Tony needs us and we're going to be there for him. None of us have any idea what his life has been like this last year and we have no right to judge him. Now, I want you to start doing a background on our dead lieutenant and you better have something for me by the time I get back up there. Is that understood?"

Gibbs saw both agents nod their understanding. Turning his attention back to McGee, he asked, "Did you bring the coffee and soup?"

McGee nodded and handed Gibbs the drink tray containing three coffees and a cup of soup. "I'll be in autopsy he barked, leaving the two agents alone.

"Gibbs," Ziva called after him.

"What?" he snapped.

"We didn't find the gun."

His eyes narrowed at the Mossad officer. "Then, you get a team back out there and find it," the ex-Marine ordered.

He didn't wait for a reply and headed towards autopsy. Part of him didn't want to admit that he was worried about what the evidence would reveal; he had to believe that despite whatever had happened to DiNozzo, Tony would still have the ability to distinguish right from wrong. Of course, the only factor that he hadn't truly considered was the amount of alcohol Tony had been consuming. Had DiNozzo's drinking clouded his judgment enough to where he could actually kill a man for stealing his flask?

No! If his hands were free, Gibbs would have head slapped himself for even having those thoughts. He had just lectured McGee and Ziva about their attitudes and here he was doubting the one person whom he trusted implicitly to have his back.

Gibbs entered autopsy to discover Tony laying on one of the tables covered by a sheet. If it hadn't been for the fact that he could see the rise and fall of his chest, he would have easily mistaken Tony for one a corpse. DiNozzo's eyes were closed and he looked like he was asleep, but Gibbs knew that Tony could often give that appearance and be fully aware of everything that was going on around him. He cleared his throat to get the ME's attention.

"Is he really asleep, Duck?" Gibbs inquired.

"He's been dozing on and off ever since Abby left," Ducky replied.

"How did she do?"

"She was incredible, Jethro. He was very much at ease with Abby; she was able to convince him to take off those filthy clothes that he had on. She just left a while ago to get him some clean ones."

"Have you checked him out?" the team leader wanted to know.

"I've drawn several vials of blood and I'm getting it ready to send to Abby's lab. He had quite a mouthful for me when I stuck him with a needle. He made it quite clear that I wasn't to touch him again until he got something else to drink."

Gibbs smiled. "All right. I think I can fix that." Setting the tray down on the nearby counter, he took one of the cups of coffee and walked back over to DiNozzo's bedside. He gently shook the young man. "Todd. I got you something to drink."

With Ducky's assistance, he helped Tony to a sitting position. "Here, drink this," Gibbs insisted.

Tony sniffed and turned his head. "What is it?"

"Coffee."

"Coffee? I don't want any…freakin' coffee," Tony grunted.

"Didn't ask what you wanted. You can either drink this on your own or I'll force it down your throat."

Gibbs didn't flinch as the cup of coffee sailed out of his hand and landed on the floor. Making sure that Ducky still had a hold of Tony, he got another cup and held it out to Tony. "We can do this the hard way or the easy way. If I have to knock you on your ass, pinch your nose close, and pour this coffee down your throat, I will. Now drink!"

"Don't want it," Tony snapped.

He felt Ducky's hand on his shoulder. "Jethro, maybe you shouldn't force the issue."

"I need him sobered up, Duck," Gibbs reasoned.

"But can't he just sleep it off?"

"It'll take too long."

Gibbs took Tony's hand and placed it around the warm cup. "Drink," he demanded.

"Bastard," Tony muttered as he took a sip.

"So, I've been told," Gibbs replied.

"Must be what your…second b stands…for."

"What do you think the first b stands for?"

Tony took another sip, wincing as the hot liquid burnt his tongue. "Big time," he said.

Gibbs had to smile. "Big time bastard, huh?'

"Pretty much covers it."

Only DiNozzo would have the gall to stand up to him like that. "Drink some more."

Tony dropped the second cup on the floor, but Gibbs felt that he couldn't help it. The team leader had noticed the tremors that seemed to plague his senior agent. "Don't worry, there's more."

"No more," Tony pleaded as he tried to lay back down. "Mm tired."

"You need to get something in your stomach," Gibbs explained as he pulled Tony back to a sitting position.

He jerked free from the team leader's grasp. "No! Leave me alone!"

"I'm not going to do that, Todd."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't," he softly replied.

Gibbs wanted to wake up and discover that this had all been a bad dream. He wanted to go back in time and forbid DiNozzo to go undercover again; if he hadn't been so preoccupied, maybe he would have done just that. Right now, he wanted his senior agent back, but unfortunately, Tony had no idea who he was or what he doing here. He wondered if Tony was just as scared as he was.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm not sure if I'll get to post again before the holiday weekend, so I'm going ahead and posting the next part. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews; they are truly inspiring. I hope you enjoy the post and have a great 4****th****!**

Todd hated coffee and for someone who despised coffee, he was sure drinking a lot of it. Agent Gibbs had promised to bring him something to drink and what he had brought was the strongest brew that he had ever had the misfortune of tasting. Who in their right mind drank their coffee like that?

He had purposefully knocked the first one out of Gibbs' hand and the second cup had accidentally slipped out his own hand. Undeterred, the agent had produced a third cup and Todd had finally managed to drink most of it. Now, Gibbs was trying to force him to eat some soup, but food was the last thing that Todd wanted.

"You need to eat," Gibbs tersely insisted.

Todd shook his head as he gathered the sheet around his waist. "I drank your stupid coffee, now leave me alone," he growled.

"You need to get something on your stomach, it will make you feel better," the doctor added.

Despite the physician's kindness towards him, Todd still refused to eat. "Later. Just want some clothes and to go to sleep."

"Nope," Gibbs said, putting the cup of soup down on the counter.

Todd stared at the agent, confused by the older man's almost hostile attitude towards him. What had changed in the short time since Gibbs had first met him and now?

"If you're not going to eat, you're going to let Duck finish checking you over," Gibbs explained.

"Mm tired," Todd forcefully repeated. "Wanna sleep."

"The quicker the doctor finishes looking you over, the sooner you can go to sleep," the older man tried to reason.

He was getting frustrated with Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. He wished that Abby was still here; she seemed to be the only person who understood him. She wanted to be his friend and nothing more. It had been a long time since someone had reached out to him without demanding something in return and he had to admit that it was nice feeling. But unfortunately, Abby wasn't here.

"Fine," Todd grunted. "Get it over with."

"I thought you'd see it my way," Gibbs said.

"I have a feeling that most people do, whether they want to or not."

The agent smiled at him. "That's how I earned that second 'b'."

Todd opened his mouth for a sharp retort, but a string of expletives escaped instead when the doctor probed his tender ribs. "Easy, doc," he hissed

"I'm sorry, my boy," the ME apologized. "Your ribs don't seem to be broken, but at the very least, they're bruised; the X-rays will tell us for sure."

"They aren't broken. Just sore."

"How can you be sure?"

"I've had broken ribs before," Todd informed the physician.

"I see," Ducky said. "How did you break them?"

"Been in a few fights."

"Recently?"

"Don't know. Maybe," Todd admitted. He truthfully couldn't remember the details of the last brawl that he'd been involved in. Usually after an altercation, he would crawl into his bottle and drink away his aches and pains until the next time that he had to fight for what belonged to him. The one thing that he did know for certain was that the last fight had been over his precious flask.

He closed his eyes against the images of him struggling with a man in a white uniform assaulted his mind. Todd had been screaming at the man, demanding that the Navy officer give him his flask. He could see the other man laughing at him as he turned the flask up and took a drink.

"You bastard, it's mine!" Todd whispered.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his back. Opening his eyes, he saw Gibbs and Ducky standing over him, the doctor's hand gently squeezing his shoulder. "Todd, are you all right?" the ME inquired.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You kind of zoned out there for a minute," Gibbs said.

"I said I was fine."

"Were you remembering something?" the agent continued to press.

"No, not really,"

He could tell that Gibbs was not satisfied with his answer, but it was the only one Todd was willing to give. What was it about Jethro Gibbs that made him feel like he was ten years old?

"Are you sure?" the team leader asked again.

"I said I didn't remember anything!" Todd roared, surprising the two older men by his unexpected outburst. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Take me back to the shelter and I'll get out of your hair for good. I don't know what you want from me!"

"Jethro, please," the doctor interrupted. "Could you refrain from upsetting my patient? I need his cooperation if I'm to complete this examination."

"Sorry, Duck. I'm just trying to get answers," Gibbs replied.

"You won't get them by agitating the lad to the point that he either walks out the door or simply stops talking to us altogether," Ducky pointed out.

Todd was immensely enjoying the fact that the doctor was chastising the taciturn agent. The team leader obviously didn't like his actions questioned, but it didn't seem to bother Dr. Mallard to reign in Gibbs when necessary.

"I'm not going to get answers by coddling him either, Duck. He needs to remember," Gibbs urged.

"But forcing him to do so will only create more problems," the doctor said.

Todd's eyes narrowed as his gaze fixated on the NCIS agent. What did he need to remember? Did Gibbs want him to remember that his name was Tony instead of Todd? Why did this man keep insisting that Todd was someone else? He wondered if the agent treated this Tony any better than he was being treated at the moment.

"I've already told you that I'm not who you think I am!" Todd stated, frustration and weariness dripping from every word. "I don't know what you want me to say! Why can't you just leave me alone? I didn't ask to come here and I didn't ask to sit here and be interrogated by the likes of you, Agent Gibbs. I've seen your kind before. You bark and everyone around you cowers and obeys your every whim; I'm not one of your puppets and I'm certainly not this Tony!"

He continued to stare at the team leader, waiting for the agent to say something. His head was now pounding once again, thanks to his tirade, but at least he let Gibbs now knew what he was feeling. He needed a drink; he was starting to be able to think and that was never a good thing. If he was sober enough to think clearly, then he had to deal with the harsh realities of his life. Drinking had become an easy out, one that Todd had come to depend upon to maintain what little sanity that he had left.

Todd knew that he was a drunk and that he wasn't probably worth Jethro Gibbs' time of day, but he was still human. He was used to people making uninformed opinions about him, but for some reason, he expected more from this man.

"I'll let Ducky finish examining you and then we'll talk some more," Gibbs vowed. "I'm going to go and talk to McGee and see what he's come up with.

"Whatever," Tony muttered. He didn't even bother watching the team leader making a hasty retreat. Although he was aware of the fact that Gibbs would be back, he was glad that the agent had elected to leave him alone for now..

Tired from arguing, Todd sat on the table, allowing the doctor to continue his examination. The ME listened to heart and lungs for Todd deemed to be an extra long time. "Is something wrong?" he inquired.

"No, my boy, just being thorough," the doctor cheerfully replied.

"Oh. Okay."

"Have you had any colds or any illnesses similar in nature?"

"A few colds, but nothing lately."

Ducky nodded as he put away his stethoscope. "I'm going to take a series of X-rays, just to be certain that I haven't missed anything. Why don't you just lie back and relax? This shouldn't take long."

Todd did as he was instructed, his eyes automatically closing as he lay down on the table. He had started to doze when his sleep was interrupted by an excitable young man entering the room pushing a gurney with what Todd knew to be a body bag on it. He had seen a number of acquaintances taken off the streets or out of the shelters in similar looking bags. The last one had been a young child who had gotten caught in the crossfire of a drug deal gone badly; the sight of her bleeding body would forever be etched in his memory.

Closing his eyes once again, Todd tried to push the vision of that young girl back into the recesses of his mind. For the second time within a short time span, he had been forced to relive two experiences that he would rather forget. If only he had a drink, then forgetting would be easy. He needed to get a way from this place and these people, but Todd doubted that he would be leaving any time soon.

He forced his thoughts to return to his present reality. He could hear Dr. Mallard fussing at the younger man. Maybe he was wrong; maybe Ducky and Gibbs had more in common that he originally thought.

"Really, Mr. Palmer," Ducky said. "Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?"

"Of course, Dr. Mallard," Palmer answered. "I was just wondering where you want me to put the body"

"Put him in drawer 105 until I'm done with these X-rays and put your protective vest on, Mr. Palmer, so you can assist me."

"Yes, Dr. Mallard."

Todd opened his eyes to see Palmer scurrying about. He looked up at the ME. "You've got him jumping through hoops just like Gibbs has you all doing."

He didn't know what to make of Ducky's saddened expression. The last thing Todd had wanted to do was upset the doctor. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have said that."

"It's all right, my boy," Ducky assured him. "You're quite right. I just never realized that…" The ME patted him on the shoulder. "I'll apologize to him after we're done."

"Why not now?"

"You have an excellent point, my boy. I'll…"

"Tony!"

Todd and Ducky turned to see Palmer rushing over to the table where the young man was laying. "Ziva and McGee were right. Is it you? Where've you been? Are you all right? I bet Agent Gibbs was glad to see you; he's been a bear ever since you disappeared. You look horrible, but I guess that's to be expected."

He threw his arm over eyes, trying to block out Palmer's incessant chatter. The last thing he needed was for someone else to think that he was Tony. Why didn't anybody believe him?

"I'll be right back," the ME promised.

Todd smiled at the ME and nodded his thanks. "Hey Doc, remember what I said before about the apology?"

"Yes."

"Just forget it. I understand now."

Ducky's laughter echoed throughout the room. "Thank you, Todd. Now, you stay right here and I'll be right back."

Todd could hear Palmer protesting as Ducky escorted him out of the room. Would this day ever be over? Slowly sitting up, Todd decided that clothes or no clothes, he was leaving this place and now was the perfect opportunity. Wrapping the sheet around his waist, he slowly stood to his feet, grabbing onto the edge of the table in order to steady himself.

"Guess that coffee didn't help as much as Agent Gibbs thought it would," he muttered to himself.

He stumbled over to a desk and fell into the chair. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Opening the drawers, he began searching them, hoping that he could find some money so he could at least get a cheap bottle of whiskey once he got back on the streets. His hands were beginning to shake and Todd knew that the tremors would only get worse if he didn't have a drink soon. He pulled out the bottom drawer to discover a bottle. Could it really be that easy?

He picked up the bottle and squinted at the label. Todd grinned as he realized that he was literally holding liquid gold in his hand. Dr. Mallard was a Scotsman and a Scotsman would always have scotch on hand. Taking off the lid, he brought the bottle to his lips and relished the taste of the fine liquor as he took a swig.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Startled, Todd dropped the bottle and watched in dismay as it hit the floor and shattered. He looked up to see the ME standing in the doorway, an expression of disbelief on his face. "Look what you made me do," Todd snarled. "You shouldn't have snuck upon me! That bottle was…"

Ducky slowly approached him as he shakily rose to his feet. "Todd, I want you to listen to me," the doctor pleaded.

"Look what you made me do," Todd yelled. "He's going to kill me and it'll be your fault!"

"Why don't you come back over here and lay down?" Ducky suggested.

"Why don't you go to hell?"

His temper raging, Todd charged at the ME and knocked the elderly man off his feet. He straddled the ME and drew back his fist, "I can't believe you made me break it. What is the matter with you? Do you want him to kill me, is that it?"

"Who, Todd? Who do you think is going to kill you?" Ducky wanted to know.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about," Todd warned the elderly man.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Explain it to me."

Todd shook his head. "You wouldn't understand," he whispered, his tone harsh and cold. "You don't waste the good stuff. Do you know what I have to do to even get a glass of the good stuff?"

"No I don't. Why don't you tell me?" urged the ME.

"You don't want to know."

"Of course I do. Maybe it will help me understand what…"

"There's nothing to understand, Dr. Mallard," Tony argued.

"In that case, why don't you let me up off this floor and we'll finish your X-rays?"

"No more X-rays. No more poking and prodding. I want out of here."

"Don't you think you should wait on your clothes? Abby should be here in just a few minutes."

He liked Abby. Abby was his friend and he wanted to see her again. Before Todd could answer, two security officers rushed in and pulled him off the ME. He deduced that Palmer must have called security. He began to struggle, lashing out with all the strength he could muster. Despite his efforts, he found himself face down on the floor, his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Release him," Ducky instructed.

"Can't do it, Dr. Mallard," the first guard said, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Only an agent can authorize his release. Besides, it looks like he needs time to cool off."

"You don't understand, I startled him and…"

"It doesn't matter, Dr. Mallard. I can't release him."

"We'll see about that," the ME said, picking up the phone.

Todd figured that he was going to end up spending the night in a cell, especially if Agent Gibbs found out how he attacked Dr. Mallard. It wouldn't be the first time, but Todd certainly wasn't in a hurry to relieve the experience again. He had gone several months without upsetting the police, until today.

As he was picked up off the floor, his sheet fell to the ground. Todd heard one of the guards snicker as the other guard picked up his sheet and draped it over him. He climbed on the table and lay on his side. The cuffs were biting into his wrists once again, but Todd didn't complain. He welcomed the pain. Hopefully, the pain would keep him from thinking about the need he had to drown his problems in a bottle of whiskey.

"Todd, are you all right?" Ducky asked.

He didn't answer the ME's inquiry. Instead, he clumsily turned on his other side so that he wouldn't have to face the doctor, trying to ignore the Scotsman and the tremors that were beginning to wrack his body. His closed his eyes again and this time, he refused to open them, as he shut out the chaos around him and the turmoil that plagued his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all your kind reviews. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. I'm so blessed to have such wonderful readers. **

Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs stormed into autopsy, his steps fueled by an anger that was nearly consuming him. He had been alerted to the fact that security had been summoned to autopsy, but it was the phone call from Ducky that had increased the urgency of his pace. The ME had briefly informed him of what had happened, but Gibbs had a feeling that his old friend wasn't telling him everything.

As he entered the room, he found Palmer profusely apologizing to Ducky while the ME was pleading with the two security guards to take the handcuffs off of DiNozzo. The only person not saying anything was Tony; he was lying on his side with his hands cuffed behind him, his eyes closed tightly as if he were trying to block out the chaos around him.

"Hey!" the agent shouted in an effort to gain everyone's attention.

Silence ensued as Palmer, Ducky, and the two guards stopped talking and stared at the former Marine, their expressions a mixture of fear, apprehension, and in Ducky's case, satisfaction.

Gibbs walked up to the guards. He could tell by their youthful faces that the two men hadn't been working at the agency for very long, but in his eyes, that didn't excuse their behavior towards his senior agent. He wasn't sure what had happened to warrant Tony being placed in handcuffs, but it didn't matter to the team leader; DiNozzo had been through enough without this added humiliation. The former Marine held out his hand. "Key," he tersely ordered.

"But sir," the first guard protested. "He's apparently a danger to himself and others; he was attacking Dr. Mallard when we came in."

He glanced over his shoulder at the ME; now he knew what Ducky had neglected to mention when he called. Gibbs made a mental note to deal with Ducky's inability to deliver a fully detailed report at a later time.

Turning his attention back to the two guards, he peered at their name tags. "Officers Miller and Tyler, tell me something. Did you ask this man to stand down?"

"Well, uh, no sir," Tyler stammered. "We just saw that Dr. Mallard was in danger and we took him down; he resisted and we had no choice but to restrain him."

Gibbs clenched his jaw, valiantly trying to keep his temper under control. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he held out his hand once again. "Key," he demanded.

"He's in our custody, sir," Miller stated.

"He's in my custody, Officer Miller," Gibbs corrected the guard. "Now, if you want to remain employed at this agency, you'll hand over the key. Now!" he bellowed.

Gibbs saw the two guards exchanged worried glances. Finally, Officer Miller held out the key prompting the team leader to snatch the key and push his way past the two guards. "You're dismissed," he growled at the two young men. "I expect a fully detailed report of this incident on my desk. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," the officers answered in unison, making a hasty retreat.

As soon as he unlocked the handcuffs, he noticed how Tony's hands drifted to his face and head, covering them as if to ward off an attack. Gibbs swallowed hard. Placing his hand on Tony's shoulder, he gently squeezed and called out to the hurting man. "Todd? It's all right. You're safe now," Gibbs assured him.

Tony flinched at his touch, forcing Gibbs to jerk back his hand in fear of causing his agent even more distress. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Tony's ear.

He pulled up the sheet to cover Tony's shivering form, amazed at how vulnerable the young man looked. DiNozzo had always managed to keep what he perceived to be his weaknesses hidden from everyone; now his soul was exposed for everyone to see. He turned to face Ducky and Palmer, the hardness in his eyes returning as he looked to the two men for an explanation.

Deciding that he would be better off talking to the ME alone, he took Ducky by the arm and led him to where they could have a private conversation out of Tony's hearing. "Do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?" he barked.

"I only turned my back for a minute, Jethro," the ME began to explain. "Tony managed to get up and make his way over to my desk. He discovered my bottle of scotch and was about to take a drink. I startled him and he dropped the bottle; it shattered when it hit the floor and Tony became enraged."

"Is that when he attacked you?" the ex-Marine pressed.

"Attack is such a strong word, Jethro. I believe that it was just an automatic response to what Tony felt to be a threatening situation."

"A threatening situation?" Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose. "He attacked you over a broken bottle of scotch. Do you realize that his reaction to this situation makes it look like he could have killed that lieutenant? When Baltimore PD found him, he was searching a dead man for a flask of cheap whiskey," he snapped. "What does that tell you, Ducky?"

"That he's desperate for a drink," Ducky calmly replied. "Don't lose your faith in him, Jethro. Not over this. Tony attacked me out of fear, not out of malice."

"Out of fear? Fear of what?"

"I'm not sure," the doctor admitted. "But, I do know that he was scared of something. You must remember that despite the fact that Tony appears to have no memory of his past, deep down inside, there are remnants of his former life that will manifest themselves in stressful situations. I would say that his attack on me stemmed from something that happened when he was young."

"So, not only does he have to fight the fact that he has no memory of his past, but he has to fight the demons from his childhood as well," Gibbs angrily deduced.

"It would appear so."

Gibbs stared through the window at his senior agent. Tony used to joke that his life was like a poker game; sometimes he would get dealt a good hand, but most of the time, the deck was stacked against him. The team leader would then often deliver a good head slap, urging the younger agent to reexamine his way of thinking. Now, Gibbs was inclined to agree with Tony, the deck was stacked against him this time and it wasn't fair.

"How do we help him, Duck?" he quietly inquired.

"We'll figure it out together, Jethro," the ME vowed.

"I hope you're right," Gibbs sighed.

"Tony's a fighter."

"But right now, he isn't Tony. He's Todd and Todd is a suspect in a murder investigation. I'm going to have to question him."

"Are you sure that you should be the one to handle this?" Ducky asked.

"No, but I don't trust anyone else. I'm sure that Jenny will pull our team from this investigation, but until then, I'm going to find out what I can. I'm not going to let Tony go down for something that he didn't do."

Ducky smiled. "I knew that you hadn't lost your faith in him."

Gibbs returned the ME's grin. "No, I guess not. So, are you through with him?"

"I just need to take a few more X-rays and…"

"Get them done and get him dressed. I want to talk to him in thirty minutes, Duck."

"I'll do my best, but I'm really not sure how much you're going to get out of him," Ducky tried to reason.

"Duck, I've got to clear him as a suspect before we can do anything else. Tony doesn't need a murder charge hanging over his head while he's trying to get his memory back."

"I know that, but you're forgetting one thing, Jethro," the ME said.

"What?"

"Tony is clearly showing signs of alcohol addiction," Ducky informed him. "In fact, I would dare say that he's experiencing some early symptoms of withdrawal as we speak; I don't know how clearly he's going to be able to recall the day's events."

"I know, Duck" the team leader mumbled. "I know."

Tony's dependence on alcohol had become obvious to Gibbs when he had discovered Tony in the alley. DiNozzo had always had an underlying fear of becoming an alcoholic like his father, but Tony had always known his limits. With the exception of his yearly reunion with his frat buddies or the conclusion of a particularly difficult case, he usually kept his drinking to a minimum. Now, it was clear that DiNozzo's worst fear had been realized during his time on the streets. Gibbs had to wonder what had happened to force Tony to seek solace in a bottle.

Gibbs felt the urgent need to go for some coffee. He needed to clear his head and convince himself to put aside his personal feelings for the time being. Right now, his priority was to prove Tony's innocence. "Call me when he's ready," he instructed the ME.

He quickly left the ME to carry out his duties. Gibbs stepped into the elevator; he hit the emergency button, forcing the lift to come to an abrupt halt. He slammed his fist into the wall while muttering a string of expletives under his breath.

"God, Tony. I'm sorry." Cradling his hand, Gibbs choked back a sob; the pain in his heart far outweighing the pain in his hand. "I'll get your through this. I swear…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby had gathered up a change of clothes and was heading back to autopsy. She knew that Gibbs would want her processing the evidence, but at the moment, her main priority was making sure that Tony's needs were being met and right now, Tony needed some clothes.

She entered the room just in time to catch a glimpse of an unhappy Gibbs escorting Ducky to the foyer where the elevator was located at. The two men appeared to be having a heated discussion and Abby assumed that their conversation involved a certain dark haired agent who had been missing for a year.

Taking a deep breath, she entered to find the ME's assistant apologizing to Tony. Something was definitely hinky. Setting the clothes down on an empty table, she quietly stood behind Palmer in order to hear everything he was saying.

"I hope that you can forgive me, Ton…um Todd," Palmer pleaded. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was just glad to see you and…"

"Any of what to happen, Jimmy?" Abby inquired.

She had to take a step back when Palmer whirled around to face her. It was obvious by his astonished expression that she had taken him by surprise. Abby smiled knowing that Gibbs would have been so proud.

"Abby, I didn't hear you come in," Palmer nervously replied.

"You still didn't answer my question," she reminded him.

"Um, I didn't know that Ton…Todd couldn't…well, you know and when Dr. Mallard took me aside to explain the situation, Todd got up and found the Doctor's scotch and…"

Abby crossed her arms. "And what?"

"Dr. Mallard caught him trying to take a drink and then…"

"I didn't mean to break it," Tony whispered.

Abby pushed by Palmer and leaned over her ailing friend. "What did you say, Todd?"

The Goth noticed the tremors that were racking Tony's body and she knew that his body was craving alcohol. If it wouldn't do him more harm than good, she would have been tempted to give in and let him have a drink.

"I didn't mean to break it," he repeated. "I just…wanted…one…drink. That's all."

She absently began running her fingers through Tony's hair as she tried to console him. "I'm sure it was an accident. Ducky can get another one."

"Did I hurt him?" Tony wanted to know.

Confused, she asked, "Who?"

"Ducky. Did I hurt him?"

Abby glanced over her shoulder at Palmer who was shaking his head. "No, he's fine," she assured him. The Goth silently vowed to find out what had happened while she had been gone.

"I have to get out of here," Tony cried. "I have…to leave."

Abby wiped away the tears that were flowing freely down Tony's cheeks. "No, you don't. You're safe here. Nobody's going to hurt you."

"Don't care about myself…worried about you and…the others," Tony mumbled. "Always…hurt…people."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. Please…Abby…help me get out of…here," he begged.

She motioned for Jimmy to leave them alone, who willingly obliged. Turning her attention back to Tony, she leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I want you to listen to me, Todd."

Abby had to choke back her own tears as Tony's eyes met her gaze. His eyes were silently pleading for someone to reach out to him in kindness. How much pain had Tony endured during his time on the streets? Abby couldn't bear to think about what his life must have been like, but she realized that one day, she would probably know every sordid detail.

"Are you listening?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Good. Now, the only way that you're going to hurt any of us is if you disappear again. We've been looking a long time for you and now that we found you, we aren't letting you go," she promised.

"I don't know you people," he said. "I'm sorry. I know you want me to be this Tony guy and remember you all, but I can't."

"But you will," she assured him.

"When?"

"I don't know, but you can't rush it. It'll take time."

She studied Tony as he stared at the ceiling. Abby wondered if he was thinking about their conversation or if his mind was somewhere else completely. She used to be able to read Tony so well; his body language and moods often cluing her in as to what he was thinking. That wasn't the case this time.

"Did you bring me some clothes?" Tony finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Yep, I sure did."

"Can I put them on? I'm kind of cold."

"Is Ducky through with his examination?"

Tony shook his head. "Don't know, but I'm through."

"Don't you think…"

"No, I'm through down…here," he declared.

"Not until I've finished with some X-rays, young man," Ducky chimed in.

Neither of them had noticed the ME as he had quietly slipped back in the room. Abby wondered how much of their conversation Ducky had heard. She could sense Tony's unease; he definitely needed a change of scenery. She winked at Tony and gently squeezed his hand. "Ducky, are the X-rays really necessary right now? Maybe we could do those later, when Todd's feeling better."

She was relieved when Ducky seemed to understand her underlying request. "I think they can wait a little while," the ME agreed. "I have some other things I can do. I see that Abigail has brought you some clothes. Why don't you let her help you get dressed?"

"Okay," Tony conceded.

"I'll see you later, Todd," Ducky said. "If you need anything, let me know."

"Thanks," he muttered. "Doc?"

"Yes?''

"I'm sorry."

Abby smiled as Ducky patted Tony on the arm. "Don't you fret, my boy," the ME insisted. "All is forgiven."

"Thank you, again," the agent said.

"No problem, my friend. I'll see you later." As Ducky turned to leave, Abby thought he said something about Gibbs waiting for Tony, but the team leader would just have to wait. Tony needed time to pull himself together and she was determined to make sure that he got that time.

With a satisfied grin, Abby helped Tony sit up on the edge of the bed. "I told you that everything would be all right."

"He's a good man…better than me," Tony said.

"Don't talk like that," Abby warned. "You are a good man."

"No, I'm not. I'm just a drunk who can't make it…an hour…without a drink." He held up his trembling hand. "See?"

"You can beat this," the Goth declared. "Especially if we help you."

She grabbed the clothes from the other table and held them out for Tony to inspect. Abby had managed to get DiNozzo's clothes from Gibbs' locker in hopes that seeing them would help Tony recall something about his past.

Tony carefully fingered the shirt. "That's nice," he whispered under his breath. "Soft."

"Only the finest."

"Who do they belong to?"

Abby nervously licked her lips. "It doesn't matter, they're yours now."

"Can't wear them."

"Why not?" Abby wanted to know.

"Clean clothes….need…a clean body. I'm too dirty."

"We can fix that. How about a nice hot shower before you get dressed?" she suggested. "It might make you feel a little better."

Tony tiredly smiled. "I'd like that."

"Come on, then. Let's go."

Abby put one arm around Tony as he stood up. She wrapped the sheet around him, giving him time to steady himself. Making sure that she had grabbed the fresh clothes, the pair made their way towards the shower room. Abby purposefully took a route that would avoid an onslaught of curious onlookers; Tony didn't need an audience as he staggered down the corridor.

Once they got to the showers, she made sure that the area was clear. Sitting him down on the bench, she stepped in and turned on the water, adjusting it to the temperature that Tony had always preferred. "Do you need me to help you?"

Tony shook his head. "I can…manage."

"Okay. The soap and shampoo are on the shelf and your washcloth is on the bar. I'll just hang around close by in case you need anything."

"Don't look."

She almost informed him that she had seen him naked a number of times, but right now, she had a feeling that he would be embarrassed at that thought. "I won't," she promised.

Abby turned her back to him and listened as he slowly made his way to the shower. Every few seconds, she would ask him if he was all right and he would answer her with a frustrated grunt. "I get the hint," she said. "I won't ask again."

"Thank you!" Tony mumbled.

Abby's cell phone rang and she saw that it was Gibbs. "Abby Scuito, Forensic Scientist Extraordinaire at your service," she answered, hoping that the team leader was no longer in a foul mood.

"What is my forensic scientist extraordinaire doing in the men's showers instead of in her lab processing evidence?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"Gibbs, I'm helping Tony, I mean Todd, I mean Tony."

"Abby, you're supposed to be helping him by proving his innocence."

"Gibbs, he needs me right now. He's opening up to me and he feels safe with me," she explained. "As soon as he's dressed, I'll let him take a nap on my futon thingy and I'll start…"

"Didn't Ducky tell you? I want him in the interrogation room," he informed her.

"He might have mentioned something about you wanting to see him, but you can't interrogate him, Gibbs! He's not ready."

"It doesn't matter, Abby. I've got to do it while I have the chance and I've got to handle this by the book or we're going to be yanked off this case so fast it will make our heads spin. I'm surprised Jen hasn't pulled us already," Gibbs admitted.

"But…"

"No buts Abby! Get him up here now!"

She looked at her phone to see the words 'call ended' on the tiny screen. This was not good. Tony wasn't ready to be questioned, but she also knew that Gibbs was doing what he thought was best. It was imperative to prove Tony's innocence, but at what cost? Abby had no choice but to follow Gibbs' instructions, but that didn't mean that she had to like it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Since I'm going on vacation, you get two chapters. Hope you enjoy it and don't worry, I'll be writing while I'm relaxing at the beach! Thank again for all your kind words of encouragement. I'm blessed to have such wonderful readers!**

Todd sat at the table, his aching head cradled by his trembling hands. He vaguely recalled Abby escorting him here after she had informed him that Agent Gibbs wanted to talk to him. Todd didn't want to talk to anybody, especially Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The man was too much of an enigma for Todd and he was too tired to try and piece together the puzzle that was Special Agent Jethro Gibbs.

He could feel his heart pounding as he wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead. "God, I need to get out of here," he muttered to himself.

Pushing back from the table, Todd stood up and began to pace, hugging himself in an effort to control the tremors. The last time he had gotten the shakes this badly, he had been forced to…No! He didn't want to think about how he humiliated himself for a bottle of cheap liquor. After that particular incident, Todd had attempted to stop drinking several times, but he never could make it past the first few hours.

Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes as he fought a fresh wave of nausea. "I need a drink!" Todd shouted, hoping that someone was listening. "What's taking so long? I'm leaving!"

Todd headed towards the door but stopped mid-stride, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the large mirror on the wall. He slowly approached the wall and studied the image staring back at him. Taking his hand over his scruffy beard, Todd shook his head in disgust. He noted how the new clothes that he was wearing hung off his frame and despite the fact that he had just showered, sweat was now clinging to his shirt. "Still a drunk," he whispered.

The sound of the door opening startled Todd. He watched as Agent Gibbs took a seat at the table and gestured for him to do the same. "Don't want to sit," Todd grunted.

"Suit yourself," Gibbs replied.

"Can I have something to drink?" He hated the sound of his voice; it was weak, just like him.

"Water or coffee?" the team leader offered.

Todd scowled at the thought of having to drink anymore coffee, especially if it had been prepared by Gibbs. "Got anything stronger?"

"Caf-Pow?"

"What the hell's…a Caf-Pow?"

"Abby's favorite drink." Gibbs smiled at the young man. "Lots of caffeine to keep you going."

"No thanks," Todd said. "I'll pass. I just want to get out of here."

"I need you to answer some questions."

"Then let's get it over with."

"All right," Gibbs agreed. "Let's start simple. What's your name?"

Todd rolled his eyes; an action that only served to exacerbate his pounding headache. "You know my name."

"Not your last name."

"Don't have one."

"I think you do," Gibbs countered. "I need to know what it is."

Todd began pacing once again. What was it about this man that completely unnerved him? Why was it so damn important that he had a last name? The only time it had mattered was when he was checking into one of the shelters for the night and then he would just blurt out the first name that came to mind; he usually told the people who signed him in that his name was Todd Gibbs.

He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, his cool eyes fixated on the taciturn agent. "Todd Gibbs. That's the name I usually gave the shelters."

"Why did you choose that name?" the team leader inquired.

Todd shrugged and leaned against the wall. "Don't know. Just seemed to fit. First name that came to mind. Hope you don't mind."

Gibbs smiled. "Good name. Can I show you something?"

"You're the boss."

Todd forced himself to start moving again; he didn't like staying too long in one place.. His tremors were becoming worse and he didn't know how much longer he was even going to be able to function. He just needed to get out here. Why couldn't they just let him go? Couldn't they see that he didn't want their help? He had learned his lesson along time ago; when people offered to help you, they usually expected something in return and he had nothing left to give.

"You need to sit down before you fall down," Gibbs ordered.

"Can't."

He stumbled and had it not been for the former Marine's quick actions, he would have ended up on the floor. Knowing that there was no use to protest, he allowed Gibbs to help him back to the chair. He wished that he could just pass out again, maybe this time he wouldn't wake up and have to deal with the pain. "Just let me go," Todd pleaded.

"I can't do that," the team leader said. "Now, I want you to look at something for me."

Todd watched as Gibbs opened up a folder and spread out some documents in front of him. He squinted at them in an effort to bring them into focus, but the only thing he could make out was a picture bearing his likeness. "What am I…looking at?" he panted.

"You're looking at copies of Todd Gibbs' records."

"What are you talking about?"

"Todd Gibbs is the name that Anthony DiNozzo was using on his last undercover operation. Abby created his identity for the assignment," Gibbs explained.

"So that's why you think that I'm Tony?" Todd asked.

"I know you're Tony and I'm going to help you get your memory back."

Todd wiped the sweat from his forehead and then wiped his hands on his pants. "It's hot in here."

"I'll have them turn up the air a little bit." Gibbs leaned back in his chair. "Now, quit changing the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject."

"Okay then, tell me what you remember of your past as Todd Gibbs."

Briefly forgetting about his headache, Todd began to shake his head vehemently. "There's nothing to tell, Agent Gibbs. Nothing at all."

"I think you're lying to me, Tony."

"Don't call me that!" Todd warned. "I'm not Tony! I can't be Tony!"

"Why not?" the agent demanded.

"I just can't!" Todd growled.

"Why not?" Gibbs asked once again, his tone forceful and firm.

Todd closed his eyes and covered his ears with his hands as a collage of images began to flash through his mind. He was plagued by the sounds of gunshots and people screaming as they fell to the ground. Visions of blood and death began to assault his senses, making him violently ill. Falling out the chair onto his knees, he began to gag. "Make it stop!" he begged. "Make it stop!"

He could feel a pair of strong hands supporting him, but he couldn't be sure if the hands of the stranger wanted to help him or hurt him. Todd pushed away from the man and scurried over to the corner of the room. Wiping the spittle from his mouth, he covered his head and waited for the blows to start.

"Todd?"

He recognized that voice. It belonged to Agent Gibbs. The older man called to him once more. "Todd?"

Slowly he lifted his head and looked around the room. His cheeks flushed as he realized what had just happened. He had made a fool of himself once again and now he would have to pay the consequences. Why couldn't he do anything right? "I'm sorry," he whispered to the man now sitting in front of him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Todd," Gibbs assured him. "Do you want to tell me what you saw?"

Todd shook his head. "No."

He knew the agent was becoming increasingly frustrated with him, but truthfully he didn't care. Todd didn't want to relieve that terrors that he usually kept shoved in a box, locked up tight in the back of his mind.

"All right," Gibbs reluctantly conceded. "But I still need to ask you some questions."

"Whatever. Can I have a drink?" he asked, already know the answer.

"Water or coffee?"

"Bastard," Todd mumbled under his breath. "Water."

He watched the agent walk over to the table and pour him a glass of water. Todd took the glass from Gibbs, but quickly discovered that his tremors would not allow him to hold the cup without spilling it. Without uttering a word, the team leader placed his hands over hiw onw to help him steady the glass. Todd could feel the calluses on the older man's hand; it reminded him of something familiar, but he could remember what it was.

Pushing that thought aside, Todd greedily drank the water until it was gone. He winced as his stomach churned and threatened to rebel, but he managed to tamp down the nausea. He looked into the steely gaze of the agent and nodded his thanks.

"You're welcome. Now, about those questions," Gibbs continued.

"What about them?"

"Tell me what happened today with the Navy lieutenant. Second Lieutenant Thomas H. Matthews."

"I don't know," Tony quickly replied.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying! I don't know what happened!"

"Think, Todd!" the team leader growled. "If you don't come up with a good story that we can prove, you're going to go prison for murder. I know that you couldn't have killed him, but you're going to have to help me prove that."

"How?"

"By telling me the truth!"

"I don't remember! Why don't you believe me?" Todd angrily cried out.

"Because I think you remember more than you're saying."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly a pillar of the community. All I remember is waking up next to him in the alley. I didn't even know he was dead until the cops told me."

"What happened before you passed out?"

Todd clenched his jaw tightly. "I don't know. Why don't you leave me the hell alone?"

"Because I can't, Tony," Gibbs gently replied.

He bristled when Gibbs called him Tony. Todd was starting to hate Tony DiNozzo and he didn't even know him. "Stop calling me that! I'm not going to ask you again!"

Todd pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head. He didn't know how many more of Agent Gibbs' questions he could take. The pounding inside his chest was matched by the throbbing in his head; his tremors were getting worse and Todd felt like he would almost welcome death if it meant relief. He could barely hear Gibbs calling out his name again.

"Todd? Are you all right?" Gibbs asked.

"No," he gasped. "Hard to breathe, heart's gonna explode…happens when I try and sober up…why I need a drink…makes everything better."

"No it doesn't, Todd. I want you to listen to me. I'm trying to help you, but…"

"I can't breathe!" Todd clutched his chest with his hand.

"Yes, you can," the agent countered. "Look at me!"

Todd started to close his eyes but his respite was brief; Gibbs was shaking him and calling his name again.

"Todd, look at me," Gibbs tersely ordered.

Opening his eyes, he saw Gibbs leaning over him, concern apparent in the ice blue orbs of the ex-Marine. "Todd, I'm going to help you," he promised.

"No…just a drunk…end up in the…gutter."

"No you're not."

Todd saw Gibbs look up towards the mirror and shout something about calling an ambulance. The young man began to panic again. "No ambulance…no hospital…no money."

"You let me worry about that," Gibbs said. "Right now, I need you to relax."

Todd permitted Gibbs to lay him down on the floor. Why was this happening to him? Why couldn't they just take him back to one of the shelters? Todd had always tried to stay out of trouble, but evidently his luck had run out. He kept telling himself that this was all a bad dream, but deep down, he knew that this hell was now his reality.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ducky and Abby came bursting into the interrogation room. They had both been in the observation room watching as Gibbs kept pushing Tony to remember. Both the ME and the Goth wondered if the team leader had pushed Tony too hard and now that Tony had collapsed, it seemed that their concerns had been warranted. Jethro wanted Tony back, but he was going to have to realize that Todd wasn't going to remember just because the agent wanted him to.

The doctor had noticed the changes in Tony's appearance and immediately began mentally checking off the signs of alcohol withdrawal. The sweating, the tremors, the irritability, the rapid emotional changes, all played a part in Tony's physical deterioration. He had almost interrupted the interrogation when Tony began to have what appeared to be a flashback and became ill, but Gibbs had seemed to have everything under control.

The more DiNozzo and Gibbs argued, the worse Tony's physical state became. The young man was having difficulty catching his breath and Ducky knew that Tony's heart rate had to be skyrocketing. Thank goodness, Jethro had the good sense to call for help or Tony could be in serious trouble.

Tony appeared to be calming down, but Ducky still thought it was a good idea for him to go to the hospital. When Gibbs had helped DiNozzo to lie down, Abby had fled the observation room and Ducky had been right on her heels. He knew that she was upset with Gibbs for pushing Tony, and although Ducky had tried to explain what Jethro was trying to accomplish, Abby didn't want to hear it.

She was already by Tony's side, brushing his hair off his forehead while Ducky knelt on the other side and began checking DiNozzo's vital signs. "His heart rate is still too fast, Jethro, but I have a feeling that it's better than it was. His hands are clammy, he is sweating profusely, and the tremors are growing worse; if you add the irritability and the anxiety, it's clear that he's showing psychological and physical symptoms of alcohol withdrawal."

"I know, Ducky," Gibbs replied. "I know. I was hoping to get some answers before we had to deal with this."

"You're going to have to find those answers somewhere else," the ME said.

"I know, Duck," the team leader snapped.

"I'm sorry, Jethro, I was just trying to…"

Ducky's apology was interrupted by a knock on the door. The trio looked up to see Ziva standing there, her eyes fixed on Tony's trembling form.

The ME stayed by Tony's side as Gibbs made his way towards the Mossad officer. He quietly asked Abby to go and fetch a blanket and although she didn't want to leave his side, she finally agreed, promising to return in a hurry. Ducky pressed his fingers on Tony's neck to check his pulse again as he listened to the conversation between Ziva and Gibbs.

"Did you find the gun?" Gibbs asked.

"We combed the area as well as the dumpsters, the drains, and the other outlying areas and there was no gun," Ziva reported.

"That's not what I wanted to hear, Ziva."

"I know, but I may have found something else."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Under a pile of the most disgusting refuse that I've ever seen, I discovered a rank insignia torn from a uniform. Now our dead lieutenant's uniform was not torn, so there's the possibility that…"

"Another person was involved," Gibbs finished.

"Exactly."

"All right," he sighed. "That's good work. Take that insignia and start developing a list of officers in the Baltimore and D.C. area who carry that rank and then see what McGee has come up with. I'll be up there as soon as I can."

Ducky glanced over his shoulder to see Ziva staring at Tony once again. "Is Tony all right?" she asked Gibbs.

"No Ziva, he's not," he honestly answered. "But he will be or he'll answer to me."

The ME nodded at the Mossad officer, trying to silently reassure her that Gibbs was correct. Tony would be okay…in time. After she left the room, Ducky saw Jethro studying the young man moaning on the floor.

Ducky had to smile. In the past, the thought of having to answer to Gibbs had kept Tony alive on more than one occasion. The ME wondered if it would be enough this time. This time there were so many obstacles to overcome and Jethro wasn't known for his patience.

He didn't have anymore time for contemplations. The EMT's had arrived and he stepped out of their way so they could do their job. Tony immediately began to struggle when the two men began to assess him. He placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "It's all right, Todd. They just want to help."

Tony cursed under his breath. "Don't want their help. Leave me alone!"

"It's all right, Todd," Gibbs chimed in, trying to add his support. "They won't hurt you."

"Let me go!"

"No, Todd. Please just listen," the ME pleaded. "They won't hurt you."

"Can't go!"

Ducky was relieved when Abby came back into the room. She threw the blanket aside and knelt back down beside Tony.

"Todd, it's Abby. Please listen to me," she begged.

Todd stopped struggling. "Abby?"

"Yeah. Listen, you're really sick and you need to be somewhere where you can get help, okay?"

"Scared."

"I know. Me too."

"Go with me?"

Ducky knew that this could be the deciding factor in gaining Tony's cooperation. He looked to Gibbs for guidance. The team leader nodded and Ducky passed on the silent approval to Abby.

"Of course I will," Abby said.

"Okay."

The ME noticed how she held onto Tony's hand while the EMT's started an IV and then loaded him onto the gurney. As the medics were leaving with Tony, Ducky saw Gibbs whisper something in Abby's ear, which she acknowledged with a mock salute. Yes, it was obvious that Abby was still not happy with Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The ex-Marine was going to have to work his way back into her graces.

After the EMT's had taken Tony away, Ducky approached the team leader. "So what did you say to Abby?"

"I told her that I needed her back her as soon as possible. We've got a lot of work to do," Gibbs stated.

"Jethro…"

Gibbs held up his hand, cutting the doctor short. "Ducky, please. It's been a long day and it's only just started. Now, go and finish your autopsy and let me know what you found. I'll have McGee send you what we have on Lt. Matthews."

"And where are you going?"

Ducky was left standing alone as Gibbs turned quickly and began to make his way down the corridor. "Jethro?" Ducky called out again.

As Gibbs rounded the corner, he heard the agent shout over his shoulder, "I'm going to see the Director."

The ME shook his head. This development was not unexpected, but he had hoped that Director Shepard wouldn't be in such a hurry to remove Jethro's team from the investigation. A new sense of urgency came over Ducky and he quickly made his way back to autopsy.

Sparing one final glance at the room, his thoughts turned back to Tony. "Don't worry my boy; we'll get you through this, one way or another."


	8. Chapter 8

**Sadly, vacation is over. I had a wonderful time at the beach and wish I was still there! LOL My thanks to all who are reading this story and I truly appreciate the wonderful feedback. I hope you enjoy the next post. **

Jethro Gibbs didn't bother knocking as he entered the Director's office, he had too much on his mind to concern himself with formalities. He knew why Jenny had summoned him. She was going to pull him and his team off the Matthews case because she felt that it was a conflict of interest since DiNozzo was a suspect. Despite their history together, Gibbs knew that he wouldn't be able to chance the Director's mind, but he had to try.

He stood at her desk, impatiently waiting for her to acknowledge him. Gibbs realized that she was purposefully making him wait, making sure that he understood that she was in charge.

"I don't even know why I have a door," she mused, never taking her eyes off the file in front of her. "After all these years, you still don't know how to use one."

"You said you wanted to see me. Didn't think I needed to announce myself," Gibbs replied.

"It's called etiquette, Agent Gibbs," Jenny retorted. "Something that you seem to be lacking."

"I must have missed that class," the team leader grunted.

"Evidently. I'm sure that I can enroll you in a refresher course."

Gibbs blew out a frustrated breath. "Why don't you quit beating around the bush and say what you have to say, Director Shepard? I've got things to do."

"Such as?" Jenny pressed.

"Such as getting to the hospital so I can check on DiNozzo."

"I'm sure that he's in capable hands for the moment; we have something of significant importance to discuss."

The ex-Marine's eyes narrowed at his former lover. "I don't figure we have a damn thing to discuss. You're just going to tell me that you've decided to pull us off the case."

"You're too close to this one, Jethro, and you know it."

"Yeah, I'm close to it," he agreed. "But that doesn't keep me from doing my job!"

His steely gaze followed the Director as she rose from her desk and approached him. Gibbs crossed his arms, silently daring her to invade his personal space. He knew Jenny well enough to know that she was going to try and reason with him like he was some kind of wet behind the ears probie.

"Jethro," she began. "I…"

"Save it, Jen," he seethed, abruptly cutting her off. "I don't want to hear how my judgment may be clouded by my emotions or how I can't be objective about this case because it involves Tony. That's a load of crap and you know it!"

"Have you even considered the possibility that Tony did kill Lt. Matthews?" Jenny wanted to know. "What are you going to do if it turns out DiNozzo is guilty?"

Gibbs clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the persistent throbbing in his temple. Sometimes he forgot how infuriating Jenny Shepard could be.

"That thought had briefly crossed my mind," he finally admitted. "But despite the fact that Tony has no memory, he still couldn't kill anyone in cold blood."

"Jethro, he has no idea who he is and we have no idea what he's capable of at the moment. The name Anthony DiNozzo means nothing to him."

"It will," Gibbs vowed.

"I hope you're right, Jethro, I really do. But that doesn't change the fact that we have a job to do."

"I'm well aware of that, Director Shepard."

"That's why I'm…"

"Pulling me off the case," he finished.

"Do you think you could let me finish a sentence?" she asked, the irritation in her voice was unmistakable.

Not bothering to disguise his own annoyance, Gibbs tersely nodded. "Go ahead."

"Thank you," the Director answered. "I can give you 24 more hours before I have to pull you and your team off the case. If you can't come up with a way to clear Tony by then, I'll have no choice but to assign the case to another team.

"24 hours, huh? Feeling generous today?" Gibbs taunted.

"No," she snapped. "Contrary to what you may believe, I do have a heart. I'm just as worried about Agent DiNozzo as you are."

"I doubt that," he shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Agent Gibbs, I asked you a question."

A faint smile escaped his lips. She still thought that she could get him to do her bidding by pulling rank on him. "You really want to know?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, I'm waiting."

Gibbs sighed. "Well Director Shepard, it's like this. I find it hard to believe that you have DiNozzo's best interests in mind; I tend to believe that the extent of your concern for my agent doesn't go beyond making sure that he's able to pull off another undercover assignment."

He could see Jenny visibly bristle. "Is that what you honestly think, Agent Gibbs?" she wanted to know.

"I call it like I see it, Jen."

The team leader turned to leave. "I better go. Clock's ticking."

"Agent Gibbs…"

He shut the door behind him, ignoring the protests of the Director. The former Marine knew that he couldn't afford to waste any more time arguing with Jenny; his determination to prove Tony's innocence increased with every step. Twenty four hours wasn't a lot of time, but it was more than he expected. He suspected that Jenny gave him the time to help ease her guilty conscience.

The team leader was anxious to find out what Ziva and McGee had discovered. His team would pull together in an effort to clear Tony's name, that much was for certain. Gibbs entered the bullpen and sat down in his chair. "We have 24 hours before we're pulled from this case," he announced. "I'll be damned if we're going to let Tony take the rap for this, so you better have something for me."

His request was met with silence. "Well?"

Both McGee and Ziva began to spout off their reports, each one contributing another piece to the puzzle that they were trying to put together. Gibbs listened intently to the members of his team. Ziva was still running down possibilities on that rank insignia that she had found and McGee was going through Lt. Matthews' personal records. Ordering them to continue with their specific tasks, Gibbs rose up from his desk and headed towards the elevator.

Gibbs was dreading going to the hospital but knew that he really didn't have a choice. He needed Abby back at her lab, so he was going to have to stay with Tony. Hopefully Abby wouldn't protest too much. She was the only one that Tony seemed to trust and he didn't want to jeopardize that relationship, but he wasn't convinced that Abby was going to be able to handle the next few days. The team leader had seen the affects of alcohol withdrawal and knew that DiNozzo was going to have a difficult road ahead of him, but he would make sure that Tony didn't have to travel it alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Todd licked his lips. He was so thirsty that he would have settled for a drink of water, but for some reason, he was unable to form the words to ask for it. Todd could feel his stomach churning and knew that he was going to be sick. He tried to roll over and quickly discovered that he couldn't move. A sense of panic came over him as he began to retch. Hands undid his restraints and swiftly turned him on his side where he proceeded to vomit once again. God, he hated throwing up!

After a few minutes, he rolled over on his back and the paramedic raised the head of the gurney to a sitting position and the restraints were replaced. Todd closed his eyes against the dizziness and the headache that was plaguing him. He startled when someone brushed his matted hair from his sweat soaked forehead.

Opening his eyes, he saw a familiar face staring at him. It was Abby. How did she get here? Why couldn't he remember anything? "Abby," he managed to whisper.

"It's me," she assured him.

Todd was having a difficult time speaking as the tremors continued to rack his body. He whimpered slightly as the restraints holding him on the gurney began to bite into his skin. The walls of the ambulance were closing in on him, smothering him. He couldn't take it any longer; Todd had to get out of here.

He began to violently struggle despite the protests of Abby and the paramedic. "Let… me…go!" Todd demanded.

"We're almost at the hospital, Todd. They'll make you feel better," Abby tried to reason.

"I'm…gonna…die."

"You're not going to die. You know that Gibbs will kick your ass if you do."

"Hurts…so…bad. Why…I…drink…no…pain."

He didn't know if he was making any sense and at the moment, he didn't care.

Todd felt Abby grasp his hand. "You drink so you don't have to feel any pain?" she asked.

Maybe Abby did understand. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"You don't have to do that anymore. You've got friends who are going to help you get through this," she promised.

"Won't matter…gonna die."

"Stop talking like that. We're here at the hospital. Now, you just do what the doctors say and you'll be back on your feet in no time."

He squeezed her hand. "Don't leave me," he begged.

"I won't."

Todd refused to let go of Abby's hand as they wheeled him into the emergency room. He heard the paramedic talking to someone but the only words he could make out was something about his vital signs being unstable. The nurses released his restraints and he felt himself being lifted from the gurney to a bed, but he was shaking so bad that they could barely hold onto him. Once again, He flinched when the doctor shouted something but it wasn't until he felt a prick in his arm, did he realize what the physician had ordered.

The doctor told him to relax, but Todd still couldn't stop trembling. A sense of terror overwhelmed him when he felt another stick in his arm. What were these people doing to him? He called out for the one person that he could trust. "Abby?"

He felt her gently squeeze his hand. "I'm right here. I told you that I wasn't going anywhere."

"What's…happening?"

"The nurse put an IV in your arm, that's all," she replied.

Todd couldn't sense any sign of deception in her voice. He knew that he should believe Abby; she had yet to lie to him, but that level of trust did not come easy for him. Todd attempted to sit up, but was firmly pushed back down on the bed by the nurse who had just finished putting his IV in his arm.

"It's okay, Todd. You just need to lie still," she softly instructed. Don't try and sit up."

"Gotta get out of here."

"No, you don't. You're safe and these people are going to help you."

"No!" he yelled.

"Listen to me, Todd. You know I wouldn't lie to you."

"I know."

"Then believe me when I tell you that no one wants to hurt you."

He nodded as he closed his eyes. Todd willed the tremors to stop, but his body refused to obey him. "Can…I…have…something….to help…calm me down?" Todd pleaded. "Anything…just to stop me from…shaking."

Within a couple of minutes, the nurse injected something else into his IV. Todd didn't care what it was as long as it worked. He closed his eyes, not paying attention to the doctor who was listening to his heart; the only thing that he made sure of was the fact that Abby was still holding his hand.

He heard the doctor call out his name. "Todd? Can you hear me?"

Todd opened his eyes and lazily nodded. "Good. My name is Doctor Cole. How are you feeling now?"

"Thirsty."

"I'll see about getting you some water. Other than that, can you tell me how you're feeling?"

"Tired."

"I can imagine. Listen to me, Todd," the doctor said. "Now that you're a little calmer, I'm going to order some tests including an EKG. It won't hurt and it won't take long if you cooperate. Do you understand me?"

"Drunk…not freakin' stupid," Todd growled.

He saw Doctor Cole smile at Abby, who simply shrugged. "My sincerest apologies, Todd. I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's okay," he slurred.

It was getting harder for Todd to focus and he figured that whatever the nurse had given him was finally working. He didn't resist when his shirt was unbuttoned and sticky pads connected to wires were placed on his chest. Todd didn't know what she was doing, but then again, he really didn't care.

Within a few minutes, the nurse removed the wires from his chest and took the machine away. Another nurse hooked him up to a monitor that would allow them to keep a check on his vital signs, or at least that's what she had told him. Todd couldn't remember a time when he felt this tired.

He needed to sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes again. Todd had a feeling that if he shut his eyes, the dreams would start and he wouldn't be able to stop them; not without drinking himself into a stupor. Looking up, he saw Abby standing over him, stroking his hair back out of his face once again.

"Don't leave," he whispered.

"I'm going to step right outside your room so I can talk to the doctor," she explained. "If you need me, all you have to do is yell. I won't be gone long."

Todd nodded. "Still going…to get me…that tattoo?"

Abby smiled. "As soon as you're better," the Goth promised.

"'Kay."

Although his vision was blurred, he was able to watch her leave the room. His arms and legs felt as if they were lead, but he figured that anything had to be better than shaking uncontrollably. Todd glanced around the room. He felt like he was in a fog of some kind; he could see and hear what was going on, but he was powerless to act. Todd hated that feeling, but he couldn't muster the strength to do anything about it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby glanced back over her shoulder to be sure that Tony was still in bed. She was glad that he seemed to be doing better, although she wasn't convinced that was entirely true. The Goth had been terrified in the ambulance and in the emergency room as she watched the doctor and the nurses feverishly work to stabilize her friend.

Dr. Cole had asked her to join him outside so they could talk in private and that had frightened her even more. What if she had to make a decision for Tony? What if she decided the wrong thing? She was glad that Gibbs was listed as Tony's next of kin, but of course, the only problem with that was that Gibbs wasn't there.

"How's he doing?" she nervously asked the doctor.

"I'll know more when his blood work comes back, but for right now, he's doing as well as can be expected," Dr. Cole replied. "I've given him Valium to help take the edge off for right now, but we've got to decide on a course of treatment and we need to do that soon."

"Well, um…I'm not his next of kin," Abby informed him.

"Who is?"

"That would be me."

Abby breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the ex-Marine coming down the corridor. Now, she could go and stay with Tony and let Gibbs make the decisions. "Dr. Cole, this is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs," she stated. "He's listed as Tony's next of kin."

"Tony? I thought his name was Todd," the physician said.

"Long story," Gibbs insisted.

She nodded in agreement and turned to go, eager to get back to Tony's side. Abby almost made it to the door before Gibbs called out to her.

"Abs?"

Abby slowly turned around. "Yes, Gibbs?"

"I need you to get back to the lab. Jenny's given us 24 hours to prove Tony's innocence."

"But Gibbs, I can't leave him. I promised him that I would stay with him."

"Abby, I'm sorry. As soon as you're done, you can come back," Gibbs reasoned.

Abby knew that he was right; they needed to clear Tony's name. She reluctantly nodded and headed back into DiNozzo's room to tell him goodbye. Making her way over to Tony's bed, she sat down on the edge of the mattress. She shuddered at the blank expression on her friend's face. His eyes were open, but it was as if he wasn't seeing her. Tony almost looked like one of Ducky's corpses.

Taking a deep breath, she cupped his cheek with her hand and softly said his name.

"Todd? It's me, Abby."

She smiled as he blinked and turned his head towards her. "I told you that I'd be right back."

"Knew you would," he mumbled.

"Yeah." Tony looked at her, his eyes silently pleading with her to help him. Abby choked back a sob; she was not looking forward to telling Tony that she was going to have to leave him for a while. "Listen, I have to go back to work for a few hours, but Gibbs is going to stay here with you until I get back."

Tony began to moan and thrash about. "No, can't…deal…with…him."

She took Tony's hand. "Gibbs is more bark than bite. He's just worried about you. I promise I'll work super fast and I'll be back before you know it."

"Don't leave," he begged. "I'll…be…good."

"I'll be back, I promise." Abby took off her necklace and placed it around Tony's neck. She happened to be wearing the one DiNozzo had bought her several years ago. "A very special friend got this for me and it's one of my favorites. You keep this for me until I get back. I love this necklace; it reminds me of my friend and all our special times together."

She brushed away a tear as Tony clenched the cross in his fist. "Who…gave it…to you?"

"Uh…you did," she whispered.

"I…don't remember."

"I know."

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "It'll be all right. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay."

"Gibbs is just right outside."

"Thanks…for…the…warning."

Abby laughed as she gathered her belongings. She went up to Gibbs, who was still talking to Dr. Cole. Her eyes narrowed and she pointed her finger at the team leader. "Be nice," she instructed.

Gibbs sighed. "Abs…"

"I mean it, Gibbs. You better be nice to him. He's not had a good day."

"I'm aware of that, Abs."

"Well, don't make it any worse. Be nice to him. That means no questions, no talking about a past he can't remember and…"

"Abby, go," Gibbs ordered. "We'll be fine."

"Call me with updates."

"I will," he promised.

"You better."

"Abby…"

She headed towards the exit. "I'm going," she muttered under her breath. Abby hoped that Gibbs would keep his word and not push Tony too hard. She knew that the team leader meant well and was doing what he thought was best for DiNozzo, but if he wasn't careful, they were going to lose Tony forever. She had decided that she would rather have Tony DiNozzo in her life as Todd Gibbs than not to have him at all; but she had a feeling that Gibbs wouldn't be willing to accept that arrangement. He was determined to get Anthony DiNozzo back, but Abby wasn't sure that Gibbs was prepared to face the horrors of Tony's time on the streets.


	9. Chapter 9

While Dr. Cole was talking to one of the nurses, Jethro Gibbs found himself vividly remembering the day that Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had nervously asked him if he could list the former Marine as his next of kin. Every year the agents were supposed to update their personal information sheet and DiNozzo would intentionally leave the line blank that requested the information of his next of kin. Tony had evidently been ignoring the repeated requests of the human resources department to complete the form and they had in turn called Gibbs leaving him no choice but to confront the younger man.

***flashback***

The team leader hung up the phone and glared at the young agent seated diagonally across from him. He had just received another call from personnel regarding Tony's file. He stood up and in two strides found himself in front of DiNozzo's desk.

Tony looked up from the file he had been studying. "Something wrong, Boss?" he asked. "Do we have a case?"

"How long have you worked for me, DiNozzo?"

"Uh, about a year and a half, I guess."

"That's what I thought."

"Why do you ask?" Tony wanted to know.

Gibbs walked around and sat down on the edge of DiNozzo's desk. "I would like to think that after a year and a half, you would learn not to leave blanks when filling out your information sheet that goes in your personnel file!"

Tony winced. "They called again, huh?'

"Yep. They call _me_ again, DiNozzo."

"Sorry, Boss."

"I don't want an apology; I just want to know why you haven't been to human resources to finish filling out that damn form!" Gibbs barked.

"I just haven't had time," Tony attempted to reason.

"Go now," the team leader ordered.

"Now?"

Gibbs blew out a frustrated breath. Sometimes he wondered if DiNozzo stayed awake at nights trying to think of ways to push his buttons. "Now, DiNozzo!"

"Boss, I…uh…you see… I have this problem."

"Just one, DiNozzo?"

"Well, it's like this," Tony began.

The ex-Marine held his hand up, abruptly cutting off DiNozzo in mid sentence. He stood and headed towards the elevator, motioning for Tony to join him. Gibbs could tell by the young man's hesitancy that he wasn't comfortable having this conversation in the bullpen, so the team leader decided to finish their discussion in the confines of his private conference room. As soon as the two men had entered and the door closed, Gibbs flipped the emergency stop button, bringing the elevator to a halt.

"Now talk," Gibbs instructed.

It concerned him that his normally animated field agent was now still and contemplative. Tony was obviously having a difficult time taking his thoughts and putting them into words.

"Tony?" he called out again, his tone lacking the harshness of before.

"Yeah?" DiNozzo mumbled.

"Talk to me."

Tony nodded as he leaned against the wall. "I um…the information sheet asks for the name of your next of kin and I…don't have anyone to list. I left it blank, hoping that no one would notice; I guess that didn't work too well. It seems that the new director of human resources is immune to the DiNozzo charm. I didn't mean for them to call you, Boss."

"Well they did. Three times," Gibbs reminded him. "I take it that you ignored the previous two notes that I left on your desk."

"Those were from you?"

The team leader pinched the bridged of his nose while shaking his head in disbelief. "DiNozzo," he sighed.

"I know, Boss. I'm sorry. I'll just call human resources and tell them that I don't have a next of kin," Tony said. "Maybe they'll believe me. I don't know why it's so important anyway."

"I know your mother's dead; what about your father?" Gibbs inquired.

"He might as well be dead. I haven't had any contact with him for a long time and I don't plan to talk to him anytime soon. Hell, he probably thinks I'm still in Peroria."

Gibbs knew that there was a lot more that Tony wasn't saying. It hadn't taken the former Marine long to figure out that the real Anthony DiNozzo often hid behind a mask that he expertly wore to disguise what Tony perceived to be his vulnerabilities. The younger man didn't talk much about his childhood, except in little snippets that would surface at the strangest of times.

"Are you telling me that your dad wouldn't care if something happened to you?" the team leader pressed.

"My father would probably be elated at the fact that I wasn't around anymore to tarnish the DiNozzo name."

The team leader noticed how Tony only referred to the senior DiNozzo as father; he never called him dad or anything containing a hint of endearment. Gibbs knew that now was not the time to sort out the details of his agent's apparently difficult childhood.

"Why don't you pick someone else?" he suggested. "There must be someone else around that you trust and respect enough to…"

"You," Tony blurted out.

Gibbs was taken by surprise. "What?"

"Can I list you as my next of kin?" Tony repeated.

"Me?"

"You're right, it's a bad idea," DiNozzo said. "I mean you're my Boss, not my keeper. I shouldn't have even brought it up, but you know how I sometimes speak without thinking and…I'm shutting up, Boss. I'll take care of it."

It wasn't that he minded being listed as Tony's next of kin; he just couldn't fathom why DiNozzo would pick him. "Tony, are you sure that you want me to serve as your next of kin?"

"Well, I don't know who I'd rather ask. You said that I should pick someone that I trusted and respected and well…there's no one else that I…" Tony closed his eyes. "I'm making this sound alike a Hallmark commercial. Look, if you don't want to, it's fine. I'll ask Ducky since he's listed as my primary physician anyway."

"I'll do it," Gibbs agreed. "But if you make me exercise my rights as your next of kin, I'll kick your ass."

DiNozzo grinned. "Got it, Boss…"

***end flashback***

"Agent Gibbs?"

The team leader was forced back to reality by the concerned tone of Dr. Cole. He silently chastised himself for allowing his mind to wander. Maybe Tony would have been better off choosing someone else to serve as his next of kin because right now, he was not doing a very good job of making sure that Tony's needs were being addressed.

"Yes?" Gibbs answered.

"I'm sorry for the interruption. Perhaps we could go somewhere a little more private and I'll explain to you what our options are," Dr. Cole suggested.

"Sounds good."

He followed the physician down the hall to a doctor's lounge. He took a seat as the doctor poured them both a cup of coffee. Gibbs nodded his thanks as Dr. Cole sat down across from him.

"Before I begin, Agent Gibbs…"

"Jethro."

"Jethro, you can call me Tom. Now as I was saying, I would appreciate any information that you can give me on Todd," the doctor requested. "It would help me decide which course of action to take in treating him."

"His name is Anthony DiNozzo," the ex-sniper corrected. "He's a NCIS agent and he disappeared about a year ago. He has no memory and we assume that he's been living on the streets for a while. I'm not sure how long he's been drinking."

"Well, I have to say that this is one the most unusual cases that I've had. So, why does he call himself Todd?" Tom wanted to know.

"Todd Gibbs was the name that he was using on the assignment. I guess something happened and now the only life he remembers is his life as a homeless man."

"Well, my first priority is getting Tony through the next few days. He's already showing some moderate to severe symptoms of withdrawal. I'm sure you've seen a lot of them including nausea, vomiting, tremors, rapid heart rate, increased agitation, just to name a few."

"Yeah, I've noticed them. It's hard not to."

"Then you know that things will get worse before they get better."

"Yeah."

"When Tony first arrived, I gave him some Valium to help take the edge off, so to speak. I've also started an IV to help keep him hydrated and I'll be ordering Diazepam to be…"

Their conversation was interrupted by the doctor's pager. Gibbs had a sinking feeling that the page that Tom was receiving pertained to Tony.

"Come with me," the doctor insisted.

Gibbs rose up from his seat and followed Dr. Cole down the hallway to the room that Tony was currently occupying. He could hear his agent screaming, his agonizing pleas echoed down the corridor. The two men entered the room to find several orderlies and nurses trying to restrain Tony as he valiantly fought them.

"Get them off!" Tony roared. "God, please, get them off!"

"What's going on here?" Dr. Cole demanded to know.

"He's hallucinating," the nurse informed the doctor. "He began screaming about roaches crawling all over him and started hitting himself like he was trying to get them off. He pulled out his IV and was trying to get out of bed. We tried to get him back into bed and he started fighting us; a couple of times he called out for someone named Abby."

Gibbs listened as the nurse described the horror that Tony was experiencing. He had not been scared in a long time, but seeing DiNozzo like this truly frightened him. The team leader could only begin to imagine what the young man was going through. He heard the doctor order restraints and another medication, but Gibbs couldn't be sure what it was. All he knew for sure was that Tony was hurting and that he was helpless to stop his pain.

"Talk to him, Agent Gibbs," Tom instructed. "See if you can calm him down."

He nodded as the doctor continued spouting off orders at the nurses. As he approached Tony's bedside, the agent was pulling against his restraints, cursing and begging for someone to help. Gibbs placed his hand on Tony's arm and called out his name. "Todd?"

"Help me, please…"Tony shouted. "Get them off of me! Crawling on me! Can't stand it!"

"The doctor is trying to help you, Todd. You have to calm down."

"No…make him get them off…I can't take it…I'll be good…promise."

"Todd, you haven't been bad. Listen to me, you haven't been bad. You're sick and we're trying to help you."

"Gibbs! Where are you, Gibbs?" Tony shouted.

"I'm here," he assured the ailing man.

"Gibbs? Help me…don't leave me here…"

"I won't," Gibbs vowed.

"Left me…you…left me."

Confused, Gibbs replied. "No, I'm still here."

"Left me."

He cupped Tony's face with his calloused hands. "Look at me. You're not alone. I promise you will not go through this alone. You have my word."

Gibbs released DiNozzo's face and took his hand. Whatever medication Dr. Cole had ordered seemed to be working; Tony was finally settling down and wasn't struggling against his restraints as much. "That's it, Todd; you're doing fine," he softly whispered.

The former Marine wished that Tony would fall asleep, but every time DiNozzo closed his eyes, within a few seconds, he would snap them open and look around the room. His gaze still had a panicked look as if he were seeing something that frightened him to the core of his being.

After a few minutes, Tony did finally manage to drift off to sleep, much to the team leader's relief. Dr. Cole motioned for him to step outside Tony's room.

"I'm going to admit Tony to ICU for the next little bit," Tom said. "I need him monitored very closely; his heart rate is still not where it needs to be. Anymore episodes like that, he could very well be headed for a cardiac arrest. There's also the possibility of seizures, but I've got him on medication to hopefully prevent that from happening."

Gibbs nodded his understanding. "What about the DT's?"

"Those usually start two or three days after the last drink. We'll be able to manage those better as well if he's in ICU."

"Tony hates hospitals," Gibbs muttered, not meaning for anyone to hear him.

"Trust me. He probably won't remember the next few days."

"Is there anything else you can do? What about rapid detoxification?"

Dr. Cole sighed. "I can give you some information on it, but personally, I don't think it's a good idea. Yes, it's supposed to get someone through the worse of the withdrawal quicker, but I'm not sure that it's necessarily the best solution. I'll go and get you that information and then you can decide. I'll respect your decision."

"That sounds fair," Gibbs agreed. "Now, about the restraints…"

"They stay for right now. Trust me. It's for the best."

The team leader nodded. "For now."

"They'll be coming to move him up to ICU in a few minutes. I'll meet you all up there."

"Thanks."

Gibbs stepped back inside the room to find Tony's eyes still closed. He doubted that DiNozzo was truly sleeping; the agent was in constant motion indicating that he was restless. The tea, leader dreaded the decisions that he would have to make for Tony in the near future. When DiNozzo recovered, he would have to keep his promise and kick his ass, or at least deliver one or tow old fashioned head slaps. "You're going to get through this, Tony," he whispered.

The sound of his phone ringing shattered the near silence. It was Abby. She was probably calling to fuss at him for not giving her an update although she had only been gone a little over two hours. "Gibbs," he answered.

"Gibbs!" she excitedly exclaimed. "I think we have something to help clear Tony!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Not for the first time, Todd wished that he was dead. He could no longer move, he could no longer think, and he no longer cared. There had been many times on the streets when he could have simply given up, but something had spurred him on. Right now, he was cursing that inner voice who was refusing to let him quit.

The pain was becoming unbearable. His body was being denied the one thing that it desperately craved. Opening his eyes, he saw Agent Gibbs standing across the room talking on the phone. Gibbs. The man scared him and he didn't know why. Abby had promised him that the agent was a good man, but Todd had seen too many so called good men turn bad.

Gibbs had been in here holding his hand and telling him that everything would be all right. He felt like telling the agent that he was a liar. Everything would not be all right; things hadn't been all right for a long time. Todd couldn't find the energy to form the words that he needed, so he simply lay there, hoping for his death.

The feeling of insects crawling on him was still present, but he could do nothing about it. His arms and legs felt like lead and his movements were limited, so he settled for staring at the ceiling. Maybe if he didn't think about the roaches, they would go away.

He heard footsteps approaching him. Despite his blurred vision, he recognized Gibbs standing over him putting away his phone. "Hey, you're awake," the agent said.

Todd couldn't do anything by moan.

"That was Abby," Gibbs continued. "She found something that may help us."

Todd truly didn't care. All he could think about was the pain racking his body. "What?" he finally managed to whisper.

"Don't worry about it right now. Just rest."

Todd nodded and closed his eyes again. If he was lucky, maybe he would never wake up again.


	10. Chapter 10

**I only had one chance to post last week, and wouldn't you know it, I couldn't log in! Anyway, you get two chapters this week. Thank you all for the feedback and I hope you enjoy this post!**

Abby was ecstatic. She had been processing evidence ever since she had returned from the hospital and fortunately, it didn't take long for her to discover something that could help prove Tony's innocence. Ziva had given her a torn rank insignia and the forensic scientist had been able to lift two sets of prints; one belonging to Lt. Matthews and the other set belonging to Captain Joseph Wells. McGee had quickly tracked down the Captain and he and Ziva had left to bring Wells in for questioning. She had volunteered to call Gibbs with a sitrep.

She waited impatiently for the ex-Marine to answer; Abby knew that he could use some good news right about now. If they could clear Tony's name, then they all could focus on helping their friend regain his memory and his life.

"Yeah, Gibbs," the team leader answered.

"Gibbs! I think we have something to help clear Tony!" she exclaimed.

For the first time since this ordeal began, she could detect a glimmer of hope in his voice when he asked, "What is it, Abs?"

Knowing Gibbs' penchant for wanting her to get directly to the point, Abby began to explain her findings to him. When she finished, she had expected some form of praise from the team leader, but her expectation was met with silence. The hint of hope was now gone, replaced by a growing sense of uncertainty.

"Gibbs, did you hear what I said?" she inquired.

"Yeah, I heard you," he replied.

"Well, isn't it great?"

"Yeah. Be sure to call me when Ziva and McGee get back with Captain Matthews," he instructed. "I want to talk to him."

"All right." Something was wrong. He had almost sounded excited just a few minutes ago, but now he sounded tired. She could sense the fatigue that seemed to be plaguing Gibbs and suddenly Abby was afraid. The Goth was scared that in the former Marine's determination to find Tony DiNozzo, that she would end up losing Jethro Gibbs.

"Gibbs, are you okay?" she finally managed to ask.

"I'm fine, Abs," the team leader assured her. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Abby took a sip of her Caf-Pow, silently wishing she was there with Gibbs to bestow upon him one of her infamous hugs. She realized that he would have to make some tough decisions regarding Tony and she knew that he would try and bear that burden alone. "Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to do this alone. We're here for you and for Tony," she reminded him.

"I know and I'm sure that somewhere buried deep in Tony's mind, he knows that as well. But right now, I'm responsible for making the decision regarding his treatment and for the first time in a long time, I'm not sure what to do. I'm not sure I can help him through this."

To hear Gibbs doubt his abilities tore at Abby's heart. Even when Tony had been missing, he had been focused; his sole purpose was to find his missing agent. The events of the past year were now catching up with him, shattering the usual confidence of the normally stoic team leader. Gibbs had always known what Tony had needed and now he was at a loss to decide what was best for the younger agent. A simple head slap or a night in Gibbs' basement watching him work on the boat was not going to help DiNozzo this time.

"Gibbs, if there's anybody that can help Tony, it's you."

"He's scared of me, Abby. Every time he looks at me, I can see the fear in his eyes."

"How do you know that he's afraid of you? Twenty four hours ago, he was living on the streets and whether we like it or not, it was his home. He's been ripped away from that life and now, he's being restrained in a hospital bed going through alcohol withdrawal with no memory of his past," she pointed out. "I would be scared. You would be scared. Why don't you expect Tony to be scared? It doesn't mean that he's scared of you."

Gibbs sighed. "I guess you're right. How did you get so smart?"

Abby smiled. "I learned from the best. Do you want me to come back to the hospital?" she asked.

"No. We need to be sure that we have everything we need to clear Tony. He's got enough to deal with; he doesn't need a murder charge hanging over his head."

"Okay," she agreed, not bothering to disguise the disappointment in his voice.

"Believe me, Abs. I don't think Tony would want you to see him like this."

"No, Tony wouldn't," she conceded. "But you have to remember that right now, he doesn't know who Tony is; he's Todd and Todd trusts me."

"I know and when you're done and we have the real murderer locked behind bars, then you can come see him."

"But if you need me before then…"

"I'll call you," he promised.

"Okay, but tell Tony that I called to check on him."

"I will."

Before she could utter another word, Gibbs hung up. She sat down on her stool and finished the last of her Caf-Pow. "Empty," she muttered. Gibbs would have known that she needed a refill and would have been in her lab with Caf-Pow in hand before she had taken the final sip. Abby longed for the day when things would be back to normal at NCIS. Gibbs would be head slapping Tony for some smart aleck comment, Tony would be torturing McGee and flirting with Ziva, and she would be surrounded by her family. She was beginning to wonder if that day would ever come.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ducky had just finished the autopsy on Lt. Matthews, determining that the cause of death was a gun shot wound to the chest. There had also been some bruising noted on the officer's arms as if he had been involved in a struggle of some kind, but the rest of the body had been in pristine condition. Palmer had just left to take the bullet to Abby for testing and now he was awaiting the blood analysis results. He sat down at his desk and began to peruse the initial findings that Palmer had completed at the crime scene, hoping that he could find something that would help in proving Tony's innocence.

His thoughts turned to Tony. The ME was aware that the young man was headed down a difficult road and his heart ached for his friend. Alcohol withdrawal was not a pleasant experience but the true challenge would be for Tony to overcome the psychological dependence that was created by the alcohol. Ducky shook his head and sighed. "Oh my dear boy, you have a hard journey ahead of you, but you'll have us to help you along."

The doctor thought back to his last conversation with Tony DiNozzo. It was the morning before he was going on his last undercover assignment. Despite Gibbs' orders from the previous night to go home and rest, Tony had come back to work around midnight and had finished up some paperwork that he claimed needed to be done. Ducky had come to work about 6:30 the next morning to find DiNozzo curled up on one of the autopsy tables.

***flashback***

_The elderly doctor turned on the lights as he entered the room. He had intended on coming in and finishing the autopsy that he had started yesterday, but instead, Ducky found himself staring at the sleeping form of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Hanging up his coat, he made his way to the table and gently called out to the young man. He had learned the hard way that it was best not to startle Tony from a deep sleep; the last time he had made that mistake, he had ended up with a broken nose, for which DiNozzo was still apologizing for several years later._

"_Tony?"_

_The agent stirred slightly as Ducky called out to him again. "Tony? It's Ducky."_

_Tony opened his eyes and smiled at the ME. "Hey, Ducky," he sleepily greeted. "What time is it?"_

"_It's a little after 6:30 in the morning. Have you been here all night?"_

_Ducky helped Tony sit up on the edge of the table. He immediately noticed how tired the senior field agent looked and he wondered if it this upcoming undercover operation was a good idea. It hadn't been that long ago that DiNozzo had jumped into freezing water to save Jethro and Maddie Tyler; Tony had been sick for several weeks after that, claiming that he just had a cold. No one, including the stubborn agent, seemed to understand how damaged his lungs had been from the plague and that Tony could only subject his body to so much mistreatment before he began to suffer the irreparable consequences. _

"_Is Gibbs here yet?" Tony asked._

"_I don't think so."_

"_Good."_

"_So, tell me why you're here, Anthony. I explicitly remember Gibbs instructing you to go home and get some rest and yet you're here."_

_Tony shrugged. "I went home for a while. Watched some Magnum, but I couldn't sleep. So I figured I'd come in and catch up on some work and…"_

"_And you never went back home," Ducky finished. _

"_No. I went to Abby's lab to leave her something and then I came here and it was so…peaceful. I decided to lay down for a minute but I guess I went to sleep. II really didn't mean to, but you know how it is. Do me a favor and don't tell Gibbs," Tony pleaded._

"_On one condition," the ME said._

"_What's that?"_

"_You tell me what's really bothering you."_

_Tony looked down at the floor. "What makes you think anything is bothering me?"_

"_Because I know you, Anthony."_

_Ducky waited patiently for DiNozzo to organize his thoughts. He had learned over the years that when it came to personal matters, Tony preferred to keep them buried under his frat boy persona. Most of the time it didn't bother him that people didn't attempt to look under the mask that the young man wore so efficiently, but every once in a while, Ducky could see something in Tony's eyes that betrayed the senior agent's true feelings. _

"_I'm not sure I can explain it."_

"_Try," the doctor urged._

"_I guess I'm a little nervous," DiNozzo finally admitted._

"_What on earth for? This isn't your first undercover assignment."_

"_No it's not; but it's the first one since I blew the La Grenouille op all to hell._

"_I don't believe the blame solely lies on your shoulders."_

"_Yeah well, that's a matter of opinion. Anyway, I guess I just feel like I've got to prove myself all over again, especially to Gibbs."_

"_Anthony, you have nothing to prove to anyone. You are one of the best agents I've ever worked with, your instincts and abilities parallel Jethro's. Don't start doubting yourself now; your mind needs to be focused on the task at hand."_

"_I know. I can't help it. I guess going undercover as a homeless person is dredging up some bad memories and maybe I'm a little sensitive," Tony attempted to reason. "My father always said I'd end up in the gutter and it looks like he's right."_

_Ducky placed his hand on Tony's shoulder. "And since when did you start listening to anything that bastard ever said? You wouldn't be doing this if Jethro didn't think you could do it."_

"_I know and I keep telling myself that," Tony said. "I just…"_

"_Then tell me what you're really worried about, Tony. You know you can trust me."_

_The ME knew that this was the pivotal moment in their conversation, the moment where Tony would either trust him or slip his mask back on. "Tony, please," he gently pressed. _

_The elderly man smiled when DiNozzo nodded. "I just have the feeling like I'm never going to see you guys again," Tony stated. I feel like once I go undercover as Todd Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo won't be coming back."_

"_Nonsense, my boy. You'll come back to us and in one piece I might add, because if you don't…"_

"_Gibbs will kick my ass," Tony finished._

"_Precisely."_

_Ducky took a step back as Tony hopped down off the table. "I better go and get ready. I appreciate the ear, Ducky."_

"_Any time, my boy and remember what I said."_

"_I will, Ducky. Thanks."_

_He watched as the younger man headed towards the elevator. "Tony?" he called out. _

_DiNozzo stopped glanced back over his shoulder at him. "Yeah?"_

"_If you have any doubts about carrying out the assignment, maybe you should talk to Jethro," Ducky suggested._

"_No, I'm good," Tony quickly replied. Too quickly in the ME's opinion._

"_Tony, please just consider…"_

"_Ducky, I'm fine. Don't worry and please don't say a word about any of this to Gibbs."_

"_I already told you that I wouldn't. I would never betray your confidence."_

"_I know, Ducky. Thanks."_

"_Take care of yourself, Anthony."_

"_You too, Ducky."_

_Ducky patted Tony on the shoulder. "There's one more thing I want to ask you, Tony."_

"_What's that?" the agent inquired._

"_You said you had to leave Abby something. What was it?"_

_The agent tiredly grinned. "Nothing of any importance. See you later, Ducky."_

_The doors closed leaving the medical examiner alone with his thoughts. There were still some secrets that DiNozzo would never disclose and he had to accept that the box he left with Abby every time he went on a long term undercover operation would remain a secret. He had thought that maybe since Tony was in such a reflective mood, that he would divulge the contents of the box, but obviously today was not going to be the day of revelation._

***end flashback***

He wished that he had gone to Jethro that day and told him about Tony's hesitancy regarding the undercover operation, but Tony had trusted him to keep his secret and he could not break a promise to a friend. Looking back, he often wondered if he had made the right decision that morning. Could he have spared Tony's suffering? If he had only come forth with his doubts and concerns, maybe Tony wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life?

Ducky reached in his drawer, pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured himself a drink. As he raised the glass to his lips, he stopped short of taking a sip. What was he doing? Is this how Tony started? Was one drink all it took to push DiNozzo over the edge? He set the glass down; suddenly the thought of taking a drink wasn't so appeasing.

The ME sighed in frustration. "Oh Tony, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I hope that one day you can forgive me for not being a better friend."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gibbs sat in the chair next to Tony's bed, afraid to move for fear of waking the younger man. It seemed that every noise or movement startled DiNozzo out of his restless slumber and it would take quite a while before Tony would allow his eyes to close again. Even when he was supposedly asleep, Tony's movements were constant, preventing his senior agent from truly resting. The young man was constantly pulling against his restraints and the team leader could only imagine the bruises that Tony would have when the restraints finally came off.

Earlier when Tony had come around, he had informed him that Abby had discovered something that would hopefully clear his name, but he doubted that DiNozzo even remembered the conversation. Although he was being sedated, Tony was still experiencing the side effects of alcohol withdrawal. Gibbs studied the man before him, silently wondering how much more Anthony DiNozzo could withstand.

The ex-Marine vowed that when Tony was better, he would hunt those responsible for DiNozzo's pain. He would make them suffer and no one would be able to stop him. Gibbs not only made that promise to himself, but to Tony as well.

Gibbs stood up as Tony began to stir, his soft moans quickly transforming into shouts of desperation.

"Make them stop!" Tony begged. "God, it hurts! Make them stop!"

Gibbs began to smooth back DiNozzo's sweat-soaked hair. "Todd, I need you to listen to me. I know it hurts, but…"

"You don't know anything!" Tony screamed. "Make them go away! They're biting me."

"What's biting you?"

"They're crawling on me and biting me," Tony gasped.

Gibbs glanced up at the monitor as Tony's heart rate began to increase. "What is it, Tony? What do you see?"

"Snakes! God, I hate snakes! Get them off of me! I'm gonna die!"

"No you're not Todd. You're not going to die. Now listen to me!" Gibbs demanded.

"Go to hell!" Tony let out a blood curdling yell as Gibbs held down his shoulders to prevent DiNozzo from inflicting further damage to himself.

The nurse and the doctor came running in. "What happened?" Dr. Cole wanted to know.

"He's hallucinating again," Gibbs explained. "Only this time it's snakes instead of roaches."

"Get them off!" Tony cried..

"Just hang tight, Todd and you'll feel better in a few minutes," the physician stated with confidence..

Gibbs watched as the nurse injected what he assumed to be another sedative into the IV port. Just as Dr. Cole predicted, within a few minutes, Tony had started to settle down and his heart rate was almost normal.

"How long is this one going to last?" Gibbs asked, bitterness dripping from every word.

"It's hard to say," Dr. Cole replied, nonplussed by the team leader's sarcasm.

"No matter what you give him, he's not resting," Gibbs pointed out. "It's like he's fighting the urge to go to sleep and when he does finally go to sleep, he doesn't stay that way for very long. He's exhausted. How can he still be fighting the sedatives you've given him?"

"I don't know," Cole admitted. "Each individual is different in how they react to treatment."

Gibbs clenched his jaw. "Treatment? You call restraining him to a bed and shooting sedatives in him treatment?"

"We…"

The ringing of the team leader's cell phone interrupted the doctor's explanation. He glanced at the caller ID and answered it. "Gibbs."

"Uh Boss, it's McGee."

"I know."

"Uh yeah, how's Tony?" the junior agent inquired.

"He's resting. What do you got, McGee?"

"We've got Captain Wells in the interrogation room. Do you want…?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Gibbs said.

"When will that be?"

"When one of you gets to the hospital and relieves me, McGee."

Gibbs closed his phone and glared at the doctor. "I want to hear more about this rapid detoxification."

"I already gave you the information to study and you know my opinion on it."

"I want a second opinion then."

"Very well. I can call in another…"

Gibbs shook his head. "I have my own. Expect Dr. Donald Mallard in your office within the hour. When I get back, I want some answers." He pointed towards DiNozzo, who was mumbling something under his breath. "He's been through enough and if there's a way I can take some of his pain away, I want to know what it is. Do we have an understanding, Dr. Cole?"

The physician nodded. "I think you've made yourself perfectly clear, Agent Gibbs. Now, I have something to say."

"What?"

"You can ask any nurse or any other physician in this hospital and they will all tell you the same thing," Cole began. "They will tell you that my patients are my priority. Todd or Tony, whatever you want to call him is my priority and I'm not sure if it is your grief or guilt talking, but you have to realize that this isn't about you. This is about Tony and he is my main concern. I want what's best for him, just like you do, but maybe you should consider the fact that I may be a little more objective than you are at the moment. You're more than welcome to have this Dr. Mallard come and give his opinion, but I have a feeling that he'll agree with me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some other patients to check on."

His gaze followed Dr. Cole as he left the room and then Gibbs turned his focus back to Tony. DiNozzo's lips were still moving, but his words were random and confused..

"Todd? Can you hear me?"

"End…up…gutter," Tony whispered. "Told you…end up…gutter. Yes sir…yes sir."

Gibbs brow furrowed as Tony kept repeating the words 'yes sir.' It was almost like he was receiving orders from some one. "Todd?" he called out again.

"Didn't mean…to…yes sir…yes sir…don't…like…dark…no…drink…stop…yes sir…"

The team leader shook his head. "Todd, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Prove…to…you…"

"Prove what, Todd?" Gibbs pressed.

Tears started streaming from Tony's cheeks. Gibbs took his calloused thumb and wiped them away. "Todd? What's wrong?"

"Can't do this…don't tell…Boss," Tony cried. "Don't tell."

Gibbs cupped Tony's face and forced the ailing man to look at him. "Open your eyes Todd and look at me." If DiNozzo was remembering something, he wanted to know what it was.

Tony opened his eyes and Gibbs saw the usual fear emitting from them. Maybe Abby was right, maybe DiNozzo wasn't afraid of him, but was afraid of what was locked in the recesses of his mind.

"Please…don't…hurt…me," Tony rasped.

"I would never hurt you," Gibbs said. "Do you know who I am?"

"Don't…hurt…me…tired…"

"No one will hurt you. I promise."

Tony shook his head and closed his eyes again. "Liar," he whispered.

Gibbs felt as if he had been gut shot. In that one word, Tony had managed to sum up what the former Marine was feeling; he was a liar. The team leader had always prided himself in looking out for his own team, but his intentions in keeping them safe had not been enough to keep Tony out of harm's way and now he was suffering the consequences. He had lied and even though DiNozzo couldn't remember his own name, he knew enough to know that Gibbs was responsible for his pain.


	11. Chapter 11

**As promised, another post! Enjoy!**

As Ziva made her way down the corridor to the Intensive Care Unit, she found herself wondering if volunteering to stay with DiNozzo was a good idea. McGee had told her that Gibbs had wanted one of them to stay with Tony while he interrogated Captain Wells and she had volunteered, much to McGee's obvious relief. Now, she wasn't sure that she was ready to see Tony after all, but she knew that she had to face him sometime.

Ziva would never admit it to either Gibbs or McGee, but she was nervous. The fact that Tony had no memory of her or any of the team concerned her, but what bothered her the most were the scars created by his time on the streets that he would be forced to live with the rest of life. It was hard to accept the fact that if Tony didn't regain the memories of his past life, then he would be forced to live with the ones that were created during the past year.

She took a deep breath and lightly rapped on the door frame, quietly announcing her presence. The team leader looked up at her and motioned her to enter. She immediately noticed the fine lines of exhaustion around Gibbs' eyes indicative of the constant stress that he had subjected his body to the past couple of days. Her attention then turned to Tony. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but she could tell that his slumber was restless. DiNozzo was in constant motion, pulling against the restraints that were in place for his safety.

"How is he doing?" she softly inquired.

"He's restless, but at least he's quiet," Gibbs informed her. "You should have been a here about an hour ago; it wasn't a pretty sight."

"I can only imagine what he must be going through." She slowly reached up and brushed a strand of sweat soaked hair from Tony's forehead. "He must be terrified."

"Yeah."

"Has he said anything to indicate that he has remembered something from his past?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I don't know. He could be remembering something from his childhood, but his words are slurred and jumbled, so I can't be sure. I'm hoping that once he's through the withdrawal, he'll be a little more coherent."

"How long will that take?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. Ducky is supposed to consult with Dr. Cole and then hopefully, we'll have a better idea of what to expect."

Ziva could sense the hesitancy in Gibbs' voice. He was evidently keeping something from her, but she decided that she would not push him for the information just yet. "I am prepared to stay with Tony while you go talk with Captain Wells," she said.

"Thanks. Just keep him as quiet as you can and see if you can get some water in him when he wakes up," the ex-Marine instructed. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Take your time. Get some rest; you look like you need it."

"I'll get some rest when I know Tony's doing better," he stated. "If anything happens, call me."

"We will be fine," she assured him.

She took Gibbs' seat as he stood up and walked towards the door. Ziva saw the team leader glance back over his shoulder at her. "I know you'll be fine," he sighed. "Hell, you helped me get my memory back; maybe you can jar DiNozzo's memory as well."

"Maybe, but I would not hold my breasts."

Ziva noticed the smile that crept over the ex-Marine's face. "Is something wrong?" she wanted to know.

"I think you meant breath," he explained. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

The Mossad officer could feel her cheeks flush. She was grateful that this latest faux pas had happened in front of Gibbs; Tony would not have let her live that one down for a long time. "Of course," she mumbled.

"Call me if you need me," he reminded her once again.

"I will," Ziva promised.

She watched Gibbs as he walked out the door and stopped at the nurse's station. Ziva guessed that he was making sure that the nurses knew where to reach him in case something happened. Once Gibbs was out of sight, she sat back in the chair and studied the man lying before her. She could not believe how much Tony had changed in a year.

Ziva was astounded how much weight Tony had lost. The gown he was wearing now hung off his frame; his face was pale and gaunt, a testament of how difficult his life had been this past year. There were scars on his arms that told of his daily struggle just to survive, forcing Ziva to consider the horrors that he was forced to face.

Taking a wash cloth, she gently took it over his face in an effort to cool him down. The withdrawal was taking its toll both physically and emotionally on Tony and Ziva was unsure of what to do to help her friend. She felt powerless to stop his pain and that was a feeling that she did not cherish.

"How are you feeling?" she tenderly inquired.

"Like…crap," Tony rasped.

"I am sure that you do."

She hoped that Tony couldn't sense her nervousness. She had never been anxious around Tony and Ziva knew that although Tony had been missing for a year, she believed that it really shouldn't make a difference in how comfortable she was around him. After all, she was a Mossad officer trained to deal with unexpected change, but this was her partner, her friend, the man that she trusted with her life.

"Can I get you anything?"

Tony glared at her. "A drink."

"You can have some water."

"Better than nothing…throats…dry."

Ziva picked up the glass and placed her hand under his head for support as he sipped the water. "Not too much," she said. "You do not want to make yourself sick."

Tony winced as he swallowed and then he shook his head, indicating that he didn't want anymore. "Hurts…to…swallow."

"I am sure it does, but you need to try and drink and eat something to keep your strength up."

"Too tired."

"I know you are, but you can beat this."

"Don't have much worth fighting for," he whispered. "Just an old box…in an alley."

"Is that where you live?" she gently pressed.

Tony shrugged. "Sometimes," he answered. "Sometimes I go to the shelter."

"The shelter? Tell me about this shelter. Where is it at?"

She placed a calming hand on his arm as he tried to pull against the restraints again. "It is all right. You are safe."

"No, I'm not," he growled.

"Yes, you are. I want you to listen to me."

Ziva cupped his face and forced him to look at her. "You are very sick, but you have plenty of people who want to help you get through this. No one or nothing is going to harm you, you have my word."

"Untie me," he begged. "Please untie me. I can't handle…this."

"You are in restraints to keep you from hurting yourself," Ziva attempted to explain. "When you are feeling better, the doctor will take them off."

"I want them off now! Please just for a little…while. I'll be good," Tony tried to bargain. "I won't…do anything."

"I can not take them off. I wish I could."

Tears began to stream down Tony's face. With every tear drop that he shed, she could feel her heart breaking. She had never known Tony to cry; even when he had just cause, he had always managed to hold his emotions in check. Now, the floodgates were open. She could barely understand his pleas through the choked sobs.

"Please…please…help me," he cried.

She cradled his head against her chest as she listened to him cry out in pain and confusion. He had no idea what was happening to him and truthfully, neither did she. "It is all right," she consoled. "I promise you that everything will be all right."

"God, it hurts!" he groaned.

She kissed the top of his head and began running her fingers through his sweat soaked hair. "It is all right," she repeated over and over. "It is going to be all right."

Ziva wiped his tears away as he looked up at her. She could tell that he was searching in his mind for a memory, but was obviously coming up blank. "Do you know who I am?" she asked.

A smile escaped her lips as Tony shook his head in response to her question. Did he really know her name? "What is my name?" she urged, silently hoping to hear him speak her name.

"Kate…you're Kate."

Disappointed, she shook her head. "No. No, I am not Kate."

"She's my…angel…"

"Your angel? I'm afraid I don't understand."

"My angel," he whispered. "My…angel. She helps me…do…right."

"What do you mean she helps you do right?"

Tony closed his eyes and started drifting back to sleep. Ziva laid his head back down on his pillow and sat back down in her chair. He had called her Kate. That was something that he had never done before, even when she had been new to the team. Was he actually thinking of Kate Todd, his partner of two years or was he talking about someone else entirely? Maybe the next time he came around, she could ask him again who Kate was and maybe he would remember a little bit more of his past. Then maybe, there would be a beginning to the ending of this nightmare.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leroy Jethro Gibbs entered the interrogation room to find Captain Joseph Wells sitting in the customary chair, appearing to be waiting patiently, but Gibbs could easily sense the man's uneasiness. The team leader sat down and opened the folder and pulled out pictures of Lt. Matthews and of Tony.

"Do you recognize either of these two men?" Gibbs began.

"No, I don't," the Captain replied.

"Maybe you should look at the pictures this time, Captain."

Matthews glanced down at the pictures and studied them for a few seconds. "He pointed to Tony's picture. "This guy looks a little familiar. I may have seen him hanging around the ship yard, bumming money from sailors."

"Really?" Gibbs sat back in his chair. "And what about the other one?"

"I…uh…saw him talking to the bum, it looked like the two of them were arguing."

"What were they arguing about?"

"I don't know. I wasn't close enough to hear. Look, I only have three days of leave left and I'd like to spend it with my family. I don't have time to be questioned about some sailor being shot, so I'd appreciate it if you would speed things along," the Captain challenged.

"How did you know Lt. Matthews had been shot?" the team leader wanted to know.

"I…guess….I overhead one of your officers talking about it when they drug me away from my family."

Gibbs shook his head. "Now, why don't I believe you?" He produced the evidence bag containing the torn rank insignia. "Recognize this? It belongs to you and it was discovered at the crime scene. Care to explain how it got there?"

"How do you know it's mine?"

"Your fingerprints are all over it. In fact, I had one of my people check the local dry cleaners and you know what they discovered?" Gibbs didn't wait for the Captain to answer. "There was a Navy uniform dropped off with a blood stain on it and a missing rank insignia. The owner identified you as the one who brought it in. Now, do you want to rethink your story?"

The Captain sat back and folded his hands in his lap. "I think I want a lawyer."

"I'm sure you do and I'd be happy to oblige."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch."

"For some reason, I don't believe you."

Gibbs picked up Tony's picture. "Did this man shoot Lt. Matthews?"

"No."

"Did you shoot Lt. Matthews?"

"I want my lawyer," Wells demanded.

Gibbs looked behind him at the mirror and motioned McGee to join him in the interrogation room. In just a few seconds, the door swung open and the junior agent rushed in.

"Yes, Boss?"

"McGee, Captain Wells needs to make a phone call."

"Right," McGee said.

Gibbs watched as McGee escorted the Captain out of the room. Hopefully when Wells returned with his lawyer, then he would be interested in cutting some kind of deal. As long as he could prove Tony innocence, he really didn't care what happened to Captain Wells. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he was well within Jenny's time frame and as soon as he finished extracting a confession, he could head back to the hospital and concentrate his attention on helping DiNozzo put his life back together.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ducky decided to look in on Tony before he went to meet with Dr. Cole. Jethro had insisted that he consult with Dr. Cole regarding the best treatment for the ailing man. He had tried to explain to Gibbs that treating alcoholism was not his area of expertise, but the team leader had been insistent stating that he wanted an opinion that he could trust.

He introduced himself to the nurses and inquired as to which room Anthony DiNozzo was in. Ducky nodded his thanks and in two strides was standing outside Tony's room peering in at the thrashing form of the young agent. He softly knocked on the door and then entered the room. His gaze remained fixed on the young agent as he slowly approached Tony's bed.

The ME nodded towards the Mossad officer. "Hello, my dear. How's our boy doing?"

"He is having a difficult time," Ziva quietly replied. "Tony drifts off for a few minutes and then he starts fighting the restraints. Most of the time he mumbles incoherently, but sometimes he will wake up screaming. It is very exhausting to watch him; I can not imagine what it must be like to…" Ziva paused as if trying to organize her thoughts. Ducky waited patiently for her to continue.

"I heard the nurses talking," she said. "They are very worried about Tony's vital signs. They expect me to keep him calm, but when he wakes up, it is like he has forgotten everything from the last time he was awake and he begins to panic."

"That's not unexpected. Amnesia can be very tricky; hopefully once the alcohol has been flushed out of his system, he'll become more coherent."

"I hope so."

"Well, if you'll excuse me, my dear, I have to…"

"He called me Kate," Ziva blurted out. "I asked him if he knew who I was and he called me Kate."

"Do you believe that he was talking about Caitlyn Todd?"

"I do not know, but it certainly was a dreary feeling."

"Eerie."

Ducky and Ziva looked down to see Tony open his eyes again. DiNozzo had no idea that he had automatically corrected another one of Ziva's grammatical mistakes just like he always did. The ME smiled at Tony. "What did you say?"

"Eerie…feeling…not dreary."

"You're quite right, my boy. Quite right!" the doctor praised. "It's good to see you awake."

"Can't sleep…skin's crawling."

"I can see if the nurses can get you something."

"No! Only thing I need is out of here!" Tony growled.

"You have to get better before you go," Ducky tried to rationalize. Unfortunately, Tony was not listening to the voice of reason.

"I can't do this…again…I can't stay…here!"

"Why not?"

"Hurt me," Tony cried.

"Who's going to hurt you?"

Tony jerked against the restraints, screaming in agony. "God, please!" the young man begged.

"What's wrong, Tony?" Ducky pressed.

"Name is Todd…not Tony…I don't know…Tony. Not exist…not exist…danger…make it stop! I'll be good…give me a drink…won't ask…for anything…else. Kate!"

"Where's Kate, Anthony?" The ME continued to attempt to make sense out of Tony's sporadic ramblings. He realized that it was a long shot but something in his gut told him had to try. "Anthony, where's Kate?"

Ducky watched as Tony closed his eyes against the tears that wanted to fall. He put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Where's Kate?"

"She's dead…She's dead, but she's my…angel."

"How did she die?" Ducky asked, knowing Tony's answer would hopefully clear up the confusion about which Kate he was referring to. "Can you tell me how she died?"

Tony shook his head. "She's dead," he repeated.

"I know that, but how did she die?"

Ducky watched as Tony's eyes glazed over as if he were struggling to process the ME's question. Could his memories be trying to resurface? He didn't want to overwhelm Tony. Considering that that he was still having to withstand the effects of the withdrawal, Ducky wasn't sure that the young man could handle trying to straighten out the conflicting images in his mind.

"Shot…Kate…was shot…but…I can…hear her…I tried to go…to her…but I can't," Tony sobbed.

"That's because it's not your time, my boy," Ducky assured him. "It's not your time."

"That's what…she…says…"

"Kate was always very smart."

Ducky saw Tony's body visibly tense. "You knew Kate?" the agent asked, his voice hoarse from screaming.

"Yes, I did."

Tony nodded and closed his eyes again. The ME smiled as he watched Ziva take the wash cloth over DiNozzo's face and arms. He walked over and patted Ziva on the shoulder. "I'll be back to check on him before I leave. I have to meet with Dr. Cole right now."

"We will be here," Ziva answered.

"I know and I know that you're going to take excellent care of him."

Ducky walked out of the room without a backward glance. He thought that he was prepared to support Dr. Cole's decision, despite Jethro's wishes, but now he wasn't so sure. There was a desperation in DiNozzo's eyes that he had not seen in a long time and it scared the physician. He knew that he had to do what was best for Tony and that was what he had to base his decision upon. Ducky just prayed that once the decision was made, that Jethro Gibbs would understand.


	12. Chapter 12

Todd wasn't sure how much more he could take. If he could only have a drink, then everything would be all right. The pain would stop and so would the dreams. He could stay in a drunken stupor and not have to think about the daily torments that faced him in his life. When he was drunk, he didn't have a care in the world. He didn't need food, warmth or comfort from anybody, he got everything he needed from a bottle and he didn't have to face the demons that haunted him.

He uselessly tugged at the restraints again, knowing that his efforts to escape his bonds would be in vain. How much longer were they going to keep him tied down? Todd couldn't understand why these people who said that they cared for him would subject him to something that literally terrified him.

Todd jumped as someone touched his face. He opened his eyes to see the woman with the strange accent taking a damp washcloth over his face. The coolness was refreshing and her touch was gentle, but he had learned that people's intentions could be deceiving. Although he had to admit that he did like her smile, he would not permit himself to become too complacent. There was an air of mystery about this woman that confused and frightened him. How could he have mistaken her for Kate? Kate never scared him.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked him, her voice having an almost hypnotic affect on him.

"Stupid…question," he mumbled.

"Besides a drink," she added.

"No."

"I would be happy to see if you can have some broth. You need to get something on your stomach."

"I'm fine," he slurred. "Just need out of here."

"As soon as you are better, I am sure that you will be released."

"Can't wait that long. I just want to go home."

He flinched as she brushed his hair out of his face. Todd saw a flicker of sadness spread across her beautiful features. "Too pretty to be sad," he said.

"I am just worried about you, Ton…I mean Todd."

"So, you think I'm this Tony, too?"

"Yes."

Todd moaned as a wave of agony assaulted him. "God!" he cried out. "Make it stop!"

He began to writhe in pain, pleading for someone to take away his torment. "Please, make it stop. Give me something!" he begged.

"I have buzzed the nurse and she is on her way. Just hang up, Todd."

"On," he corrected, gritting his teeth against the anguish that was consuming him.

"It's hang on…Ziva…not hang…up," he panted. "You…were…getting…better."

Todd felt her grasp his hand. He tightened his own grip, unaware of how just how hard he was squeezing. He heard her gasp but he was afraid to let go; she was his lifeline in the sea of pain that he was drowning in.

He heard her say something to the nurse and in just a few minutes, the pain began to subside into a dull ache. Through bleary eyes, he looked at the woman who was still by his side, holding his hand.

"You're name…is…Ziva," he rasped.

"Yes."

"Not Kate?"

"No. I am not Kate. Kate is dead."

"I know. I still see…her…sometimes."

"You're Ziva," he repeated.

"Yes. How do you remember my name?" she wanted to know.

"I don't know." Todd swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "I don't know how I know your name. You think…I'm Tony. Were you and…Tony…close?"

"Close? I am not sure what you mean," she quietly answered.

Todd could feel his cheeks flush. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Ziva smiled at him; again he was captivated by her beautiful smile. "We are close," she replied. "We are very good friends."

"Oh."

"Do you remember anything else besides my name?" she pressed.

"Where's Abby?" He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable around Ziva. Was she lying about her relationship with this Tony? He knew that Abby would be honest with him. There was no sense of duplicity in her or Ducky for that matter, but he still preferred the Goth's company.

"She is at NCIS processing evidence," Ziva replied. "You need to get some sleep. She will be here as soon as she can."

Todd nodded. He didn't want to sleep, but he didn't want to stay awake. He wanted to go home, even if that home was just a box or a shelter. What right did these people have in interfering in his life? A myriad of emotions began to wash over him; sadness, confusion, anger and without his bottle of liquor, he had no idea how to handle these feelings.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip into the darkness of slumber. The last thing that he thought of was the fact that even with all these people that were caring for him, in the end it wasn't going to matter. Todd Gibbs had stopped caring about himself a long time ago.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ducky listened intently as Dr. Cole described Tony's condition and what course of treatment that he preferred to pursue. The Scotsman considered the doctor knowledgeable and truly seemed to have Tony's best interests in mind. He couldn't blame Jethro for wanting a second opinion, but he knew that the team leader was not going to be pleased that the ME was agreeing with Dr. Cole.

"I know that Agent Gibbs believes that Tony will suffer less if he undergoes rapid detoxification, but given Agent DiNozzo's condition, I believe that it will create more problems than solutions. Rapid detox is not a cure all, especially for alcoholics. I know that the withdrawal has been painful for Tony, but we are easing the effects with medication. He should be through the worst of the physical withdrawal within the next couple of days and then we can start concentrating on getting him back on his feet," Dr. Cole explained.

The ME sighed. "I don't doubt what you're saying Dr. Cole, and from what I've read about rapid detoxification, I have to agree. I also understand where Jethro is coming from. Tony has been missing for a year and has no memory of who he is. Every day we see signs that Anthony is still with us, but Jethro doesn't want small victories, he wants to win the war."

"I'm afraid I'm not following you, Doctor Mallard."

"Tony is like a son to Jethro and Jethro is the father that Tony never had. There has always been that connection from the first day they met; of course, they would never admit to having those feelings, but it is in their actions. When Tony disappeared, it was like Jethro was losing his family all over again. You see, his first wife and daughter were murdered many years ago and he's truly never gotten over that and losing Tony only added to his pain.

"When we found young Anthony the other day, a spark returned to Jethro's eyes that had been missing for quite some time. He doesn't want to see his son suffer and I'm sure that if you were in his shoes, you would want to put an end to your son's suffering as quickly as possible. So, instead of fighting so many small battles, the Marine in Jethro concentrates on winning the war."

Ducky watched as Dr. Cole sat back in his chair, absorbing all of what the ME had shared with him. "I do understand what Agent Gibbs is going through," he said.

"You do?" Ducky inquired.

"Yes. My own son was an alcoholic."

"I see. May ask what happened to your son? Is he still sober?"

Dr. Cole shook his head. "No, he's dead. He checked into a clinic and tried the rapid detox against my advice. He wouldn't check in the hospital because he was afraid of tarnishing my name. Michael's body couldn't handle the stress and he went into cardiac arrest. It turns out the clinic was less than reputable and…"

Ducky found it difficult to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat. "I am so sorry, Dr. Cole."

"It happened about three years ago and I guess that I vowed that I wouldn't lose another person to alcoholism. That's why I have devoted my time to research and I know what works. I hope that Agent Gibbs can trust my judgment."

He smiled at Dr. Cole. "By the time I get through with him, he will. I can promise you that."

"Thank you, Dr. Mallard."

"My pleasure Dr. Cole," he assured the other man. "My pleasure. Now, I'm going to check on Anthony one more time before I leave and find Jethro."

"Good luck, Doctor."

"Thank you."

The two men shook hands and Ducky left the office, satisfied that Tony was in good hands. His heart went out to Dr. Cole, knowing that this case was reopening old wounds for the man. Hopefully helping Tony would enable the doctor to put some of his ghosts to rest; the burden of a child's death was not an easy thing to live with.

He peeked in Tony's room to discover that the young man was still asleep and Ziva was still by his side. The Mossad officer looked up and Ducky quietly acknowledged her by tipping his hat. The ME smiled and turned to leave. He reached in his pocket for his cell phone and called Gibbs.

"Gibbs," the team leader tersely answered.

"Jethro, I've talked with Dr. Cole," he informed the ex-Marine.

"And?"

"And I think we need to talk…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He watched and listened as Captain Wells and his attorney talked with Gibbs. Knowing that his Boss would settle for nothing less than a full confession in order to clear Tony's name, McGee realized that it could be a very long night. Maybe he should have volunteered to go the hospital, but the junior agent had been glad that Ziva had volunteered to go to the hospital and stay with Tony.

McGee wasn't sure that he was ready to see his friend in such a dismal condition. It was still hard for him to believe that the man that they had discovered on the streets was actually Tony. Much to the displeasure of his colleagues, he had almost come to accept the fact that DiNozzo was gone. Abby had been mad at him for days for even hinting that Tony could be dead. Gibbs had clenched his jaw and glared at him, not speaking to him unless it was absolutely necessary and Ziva had simply shrugged and said for him not to give up hope.

But how he was he supposed to maintain a modicum of hope when the agent had been missing for a year? Tony had proved time and time again to be one of the most resourceful men that he had known, but even the most capable man had his faults and DiNozzo had many. He was arrogant, brash, annoying, sometime childish and goofy, but somehow his good qualities outweighed his bad.

Tony was someone who he could count on to always watch his six whether in the field or in the office. How many times did he owe Tony for deflecting Gibbs' wrath and taking it upon himself? How many times did he owe Tony his life? It had taken him a while to discover that there were many layers to Anthony DiNozzo and with every layer that was revealed, a new aspect of Tony's true character came shining through.

Now, Tony was alive and in the hospital going through withdrawal with no memory of his past. McGee knew that if Tony truly remembered his former life that he wouldn't have turned to alcohol to help cope with his situation. McGee recalled a conversation they had during a stake out a few months before Tony went undercover.

_***flashback***_

"_How much longer before Gibbs and Ziva relieve us?" Tony asked._

_McGee glanced at his watch. "Three."_

"_Three hours? Oh, man. It feels like we've been here for three days," the senior agent complained._

"_Time will go a lot faster if you stop whining," Tim replied. _

"_I'm not whining. I was merely stating a fact, Probie."_

"_You were whining."_

"_Nope. DiNozzo's don't whine. It was never allowed."_

_McGee took a sip of coffee. "What do you mean?"_

"_Whining was not allowed in the DiNozzo household."_

"_Really? Why not?"_

_McGee wasn't sure if Tony heard him. DiNozzo had become quiet, almost immediately withdrawing from the conversation. "Tony? Did you hear me?" he asked._

"_Yeah, McGoo, I heard you."_

"_So, why wasn't whining allowed?" Tim asked again._

"_My father felt that whining was a sign of ungratefulness."_

"_I don't understand why your father would think that."_

"_You don't know my father, McGee. In his eyes, the fact that I was breathing was a sign of weakness."_

"_Come on, Tony. You talk like your dad didn't want you." _

_Tony laid his head against the head rest of the car. "Well McBeaver, not everyone had parents like June and Ward Cleaver," DiNozzo retorted. _

_McGee rolled his eyes at the barb. "My family wasn't perfect either, Tony."_

"_Never said they were, McGee."_

"_Yes, you did. You just said…"_

"_Forget it," Tony snapped._

_The two men sat in silence for a few minutes until McGee summoned the courage to shatter the stillness. "I'm sorry, Tony. I shouldn't have…"_

"_Don't worry about it, McGee. The past is the past and you can't change it. You have to accept it and move on."_

"_If you could change the past, what would you change?"_

_He could sense that Tony was sincerely considering his question. After a few seconds, DiNozzo answered, "I don't know. I don't guess I've really ever thought about it until now."_

"_There must be something that you would do different," McGee pressed._

"_I guess so. If I had it to do all over again, I would have taken every bottle of liquor in the house and poured it out."_

_McGee stared at Tony in amazement. That was not the answer that he was expecting. "What do you mean?"_

"_Just what I said."_

"_I take it your dad drank a lot," Tim deduced._

"_Guess you could say that. It turned him into a monster and every day I would stand there in his study and watch it happen before my eyes. One day, I grabbed the bottle from his desk and threw it on the floor."_

"_What happened?"_

_DiNozzo sighed. "Don't remember much after that. I was unconscious for a few days and then after I woke up, I was disinherited and on my way to a boarding school."_

"_You were in a coma?" Tim asked, not bothering to hide the disbelief that he was feeling. _

"_Yeah. Anyway, I told myself that I would never become like my father."_

"_But I've seen you hung over. Are you sure that your not…" Tony's icy glare prohibited McGee from finishing his question._

"_No, McGee, I'm not an alcoholic. Yeah, I've been hung over a few times in my life, but unlike my father, I know when to stop."_

_Tony grabbed the binoculars from McGee and stared out the window at the house they were watching. "Now, stay focused on the case, Probie."_

"_Tony?"_

"_What?"_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_Don't be, McGee. It wasn't your fault."_

"_I know, but…"_

"_McGee, don't make me head slap you," DiNozzo warned._

_Tim grinned at the senior agent. "Got it."_

_***end flashback***_

"McGee!"

The young man startled at the sound of Gibbs' voice. He cut on the microphone and answered, "Yes, Boss?"

"Get in here!" the team leader ordered.

He quickly left the observation room and entered the interrogation room. "Yes, Boss?"

"We have a confession. I need you to review the statement and be sure that everything is in order with the autopsy and the evidence. I don't want this coming back and biting us in the ass."

"Understood."

"I'll be back in a little while, I…" the team leader was interrupted by his ringing phone.

McGee followed him outside into the corridor and waited patiently as Gibbs answered his cell.

"Gibbs," the ex-Marine barked.

He watched Gibbs listen for a second before replying, "And?" Another brief pause. "I'll be waiting on you, Duck."

McGee waited until Gibbs had put his phone in his pocket. "Anything wrong, Boss? Was that about Tony?"

"Finish up here and then go home and get some rest," Gibbs instructed. "I expect you at the hospital tomorrow morning."

"The…uh…hospital?" Tim stammered.

"Yeah. You're the only one that hasn't seen Tony yet," the older agent pointed out. "If DiNozzo's going to pull through this, he's going to need all our support."

"But I…uh…"

He swallowed nervously as Gibbs stared at him. "Is there a problem?"

"He doesn't remember me, Boss."

"He doesn't remember me either, but that still doesn't stop me from wanting to help him."

"It's not that. It's just that…"

"What McGee?"

Taking a deep breath, the young man exhaled in an effort to organize his thoughts. "I'm just having a hard time accepting that it's really Tony."

"He's having a hard time too, McGee."

"I know. I guess I'm just nervous."

"Nervous or scared?" Gibbs challenged.

"I don't know."

McGee forced himself to stand still as Gibbs stood just a few centimeters from his face. He would never forget the ex-sniper's cool tone nor his words as Gibbs forced him to acknowledge his own weaknesses.

"Tony has been through hell this last year and it doesn't matter what he's become, deep down he is still Anthony DiNozzo. Your image of him may have been tarnished, but he is still the same man. If you're choosing to give up on him, then you can find yourself another team. You and I both know that if this had happened to you or me or to Ziva, Tony would be right there for us, trying to help us. We owe him that and so much more. Have I made myself clear, Agent McGee?" Gibbs challenged.

"Yes sir," McGee said.

"Good. Now, I expect you at the hospital first thing in the morning and don't forget the coffee!"

As Gibbs stormed off, presumably heading towards autopsy, McGee leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Was Gibbs right? Was he unintentionally punishing Tony for something that he had no control over? Why was he scared to face Tony? Was it own shortcomings that he was afraid to face? At the moment, he wasn't sure that it truly mattered; the only thing that mattered right now was pushing his own fears aside and helping his friend.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part 13**

Gibbs had just finished debriefing Jenny, taking great pleasure in informing her that his team had managed to clear Tony's name and catch the real murderer. He wasn't in the mood to stay and hear her platitudes of reassurances of how she always had the utmost faith in him and his team and how she was glad that he could now focus on helping Tony. The team leader simply acknowledged her with a curt nod and turned to leave.

"In a hurry, Agent Gibbs?" she inquired.

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Are you headed back to the hospital?" Jenny wanted to know.

"In a few minutes. I have a couple other things I need to do."

"Maybe I could ride with you. I haven't had a chance to stop by and see Tony."

"It's probably not a good idea, Jen," Gibbs said.

He could see her visibly bristle at his response. Gibbs knew that she hadn't expected him to say no, but he had taught her long ago that she should expect the unexpected; evidently that lesson must have slipped her mind.

"Why not?" the director sharply asked. "Everyone else has seen him."

"Just the team."

"I'm part of that team."

A small grin danced on his lips as he opened the door of her office. "You just keep believing that, Jen."

He walked into the reception area, past Cynthia, and headed towards the stairs that would take him to the bullpen. The team leader knew that Jenny would be right behind him, demanding an explanation, and of course, he was right. He knew her well.

The ex-Marine sat down at his desk and picked up the phone to see if Ducky had returned yet. Gibbs didn't look up as she stood over him, hands on her hips, defiance in her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean, Agent Gibbs?" she tersely demanded.

"You're an intelligent woman, you figure it out," he replied.

"I am part of every team here including yours, Agent Gibbs; that's one of the benefits of being the Director."

"I'm sure it is. I guess another benefit is being able to use your position of power to settle your own personal vendettas, isn't it?"

"Is that what you think I've done?"

He slammed down the receiver and stood up. "No! It's what I know you've done!"

There was so much that he wanted to say to her, but in the bullpen, in front of her subordinates, was not the time or place. The events of the past few days were beginning to take a toll on him and his temper was closer to the surface than usual. Concern over Tony had consumed him and until DiNozzo was back sitting at his desk annoying McGee and Ziva, his control would be tenuous at best.

"I'll be in autopsy," he grunted.

He headed towards the elevator, leaving an outraged Jenny Shepherd staring after him. As he turned the corner, he met McGee who was escorting a woman and a child sporting visitor badges. His eyes met those of the younger agent, silently demanding both an explanation as to why he was still here and why these visitors were here this late at night.

McGee cleared his throat. "Uh, Boss. This is Ms. Olivia Carter and her daughter Megan; I met them on my way out. They were looking for information on Todd Gibbs," he quickly added.

Gibbs studied the woman and child for a few seconds before dismissing McGee with a nod. "I'll take it from here, McGee. Go on home and get some rest."

"Right, Boss."

"I'll see you in the morning at the hospital."

"I'll be there," the younger man promised.

The team leader extended his hand to the woman, whose appearance led him to believe that she had led a difficult life. The fine lines of exhaustion around Ms. Carter's face were familiar to him; Tony had the same lines of fatigue, especially around his eyes. Her clothes were clean, but faded and bore several patches indicating that she had been forced to repair the holes several times. Her daughter did not appear to be as world weary as her mother, but given time, she would bear the marks of someone older than their actual years.

"I'm Special Agent Jethro Gibbs."

"Gibbs," Olivia repeated. "Are you related to Todd?"

"Uh…no, not really," the ex-Marine answered. "So, how do you know Todd?"

"We know him from the shelter," she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment.

"The shelter?"

"The Angels of Mercy Shelter. He comes there a couple times a week for a hot meal," Olivia explained. "Sometimes he'll stay over night, but usually it's so crowded that he just eats and leaves; he doesn't like staying in one place for too long."

"How long has he been coming to this shelter?"

"Almost a year."

"I see."

Gibbs knew that he had the opportunity to discover some of what had happened to Tony during the year that he had been missing, but now he wasn't so sure that he wanted to know. Whatever had happened to DiNozzo during that time had obviously turned the young man's world upside down. "Let's go somewhere where we can have some privacy," he suggested.

"All right. But first can you tell me if Todd is okay? Will we be able to see him?"

"He's at the hospital right now."

"Is he sick again?" the young girl shyly asked.

The team leader knelt down so that he was eye level with Megan. "What do you mean?"

"Todd is sick a lot, especially when he drinks."

"Megan!" Olivia chastised.

"It's all right," Gibbs assured her. "I know."

Reaching out with his hand, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind the girl's ear. "Yeah, he's pretty sick, but he's going to get better."

"That's good. Todd's a lot of fun to be around when he's not sick."

"Yeah."

Standing up he gently took Olivia by the elbow and escorted her and Megan to one of the conference rooms. "Make yourselves comfortable," he insisted. "Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

"I'd like some hot chocolate," Megan said, with an enthusiasm that reminded him of Kelly.

"I think we can manage that," Gibbs said with a smile. "Anything for you, Ms. Carter?"

"Some coffee would be nice," she softly replied.

The team leader nodded. He picked up the phone and dialed Abby's number in the lab. "Abs, I have a favor." Gibbs placed the order and asked her to join him in the conference room. Abby was the one person that Tony seemed to trust implicitly; she should hear what Olivia and her daughter had to say.

Hanging up the phone, he smiled at the woman and the girl. "It shouldn't take too long."

"We don't want to be any trouble."

"Believe me, you aren't." Gibbs sat down across from them, momentarily debating whether he should reveal the truth to them. Trusting his gut, he blew out a pent up breath and began; after all, they had come to NCIS, looking for their friend.

"The man you know as Todd Gibbs is actually Anthony DiNozzo. He's my senior field agent and he was sent undercover about a year ago and he simply vanished. We found him again a couple of days ago at the scene of a murder and discovered that he has no memory of his former life."

"That's horrible," Olivia exclaimed.

"Yeah, it is. We don't know anything about what happened during this past year other than he's been living on the streets and is an alcoholic. Right now, he's in no shape to tell us much of anything."

"I don't know how much help we can be, but we'll certainly try. Todd, I mean Tony, would always seek us out at the shelter to make sure we were all right. For some reason, he thought that he needed to watch out for us."

"You must be very special to him."

"He's a good man to have on your side."

Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Yes, he is."

"What do you want to know, Agent Gibbs?"

The team leader wasn't sure how to answer her. He wanted to know everything that she could tell him, but yet, he was afraid to find out the truth. What had happened to Tony to make him forget who he was? Was there something that happened to DiNozzo that was so agonizingly painful that he had to revert to another identity to help him cope? There were so many questions that needed to be answered and those answers could very well lie with this mother and her little girl.

"Why don't you start with the first time you saw Tony…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_The broken man cried out as he felt someone grab his arm. He knew what was coming and he didn't think that he had the strength to endure the agony that was about to be inflicted on him. How long had he been here? Wasn't someone looking for him? Surely someone was missing him by now._

"_Please…don't," he whimpered._

"_Don't what?" a deep voice resonated in his head._

"_No more…no more."_

_A rough calloused hand stroked his head and he jerked away. "Leave…me…alone."_

_He gasped as his head was pulled back until he was staring at the hidden face of one of his captors. "I've got something here that will help you feel better," he snarled._

"_Don't want…it!"_

"_Yes, you do. You know you do."_

"_No…can't want it."_

"_Tell me your name," the dark figure demanded._

"_Told you…my name," the wounded man gasped. _

"_I don't believe you."_

"_Todd…Gibbs…my name is…Todd…Gibbs."_

"_That's not the right answer, my friend."_

_Todd screamed when he felt the needle plunge in his arm. The familiar feeling of dread came over him as he curled up on his side, sobbing as the images of his darkest dreams began to assault him. The cries of the dead mixed with the demons of his mind forced him into the pits of despair that he could not begin to describe. _

_He winced when he felt a boot make contact with his back. "You stubborn bastard," the man seethed. "I'm going to break you and you'll tell me what I want to know."_

_Todd ignored the threats of his tormentor. "Go…to…hell," he spat._

"_You first."_

"_Already there," Todd rasped. _

"_Get used to it."_

_Todd closed his eyes as he watched his fears become reality in his mind. He felt as if his skin was on fire and he tried to roll from side to side, attempting to extinguish the flames. The younger man couldn't hear the conversation between his captors as his screams grew with intensity. He didn't realize that he was about to be set free, all that he could think about was the burning sensation that was consuming him from the inside out. When Todd finally succumbed to the darkness, he had no idea that when he woke up the next time, he would no longer be held captive by people, he would be held captive by his mind._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ziva was abruptly awakened by a blood curdling scream. She bolted upright in her chair to discover Tony thrashing about on the bed, begging someone to help him. Standing over him, she cupped his face and called out to him. "Todd! Wake up!"

Tony began to struggle even more. "Burning…I'm…on…fire...help me!"

The Mossad officer was used to seeing pain and suffering, but this was different. This was her partner and her friend and she could not block Tony's agonizing cries out of her mind. She shuddered to think how disappointed her father would be to discover that she was allowing herself to be controlled by her emotions.

Ziva grabbed a washcloth and wrung it out in some cool water and began sponging Tony's face and arms. "Just relax, this should help."

"God, it hurts!" he moaned.

"I know, Todd. I know," she whispered.

"Make…it…stop…just…kill…me."

Ziva shook her head. "That is not the answer. Believe it or not, you are almost through the worst of it."

She began to hum as she continued to sponge off his sweat soaked body. "You are doing fine," she softly muttered. "Just relax."

"I can't."

"Please Todd, just try."

"Don't want…to sleep. Scared."

Admitting to being afraid was something that Tony would not normally do. She took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It is all right to be scared."

"No, it's not. Not according to…"

Ziva stopped her ministrations and studied the ailing man. "According to who, Todd?"

Her heart almost stopped when he looked at her, his normally vibrant eyes hidden by confusion and pain. Was he remembering something?

"Todd? Who told you that was not acceptable to be afraid?" she asked again.

He closed his eyes as a single tear escaped down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he mumbled over and over. "I'm sorry. I messed up."

"Todd? Answer me," she demanded, her tone gentle but firm.

DiNozzo turned his face away from her. She had to lean over him to hear his answer. Once again, Ziva received a surprise when Tony whispered the one name that she would have never expected.

"Gibbs…"


	14. Chapter 14

**I am so overwhelmed by the incredible response to this story. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Hope you enjoy this next installment.**

"Why don't you start with the first time you saw Tony?" the team leader suggested.

Gibbs had finally prepared himself to hear what Tony's life had been like this past year and Olivia and Megan Carter were going to provide those details. He just hoped that what he discovered could help DiNozzo regain his memory and his life.

Before Olivia could begin, his cell phone rang. "Gibbs," he impatiently answered.

"Jethro," Ducky greeted. "Where are you? I wanted to talk to you about Anthony."

"I'm in the conference room," he replied. "Abby's on her way up here. Why don't you join us? You probably need to hear this."

"Hear what?" the ME inquired.

Ignoring the ME's question, Gibbs said, "See you in a minute, Duck."

Gibbs shut his phone and slipped it back in his pocket; turning his attention back to the mother. "Do you mind waiting a couple of minutes? I've asked a couple of friends to join us."

"Of course," Olivia agreed.

He nodded his thanks to the woman, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Olivia's daughter, Megan, was staring at him. Gibbs smiled at the young girl. "Something wrong, sweetheart?"

Megan sat up in her chair, placing her hands in her lap. "You really shouldn't hang up on people," she stated. "It's very rude."

The former Marine was speechless as he tried to remember the last time that he had been reprimanded by a child. This girl had a spirit that had yet to be tainted by living on the streets. "Well, uh yeah, I guess it is," he finally managed to reply.

"Megan!" Olivia admonished. "I'm sorry Agent Gibbs; she has a tendency to be rather blunt at times."

"It's quite all right," he assured the mother. "I like a girl who speaks her mind."

"You should also try saying hello," Megan whispered.

Gibbs winked at the girl, her persistence reminding him so much of Kelly. "I'll try and remember that."

"Do or do not, there is no try."

"What?"

"That's from 'Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back'," Megan explained. "Yoda says it to Luke."

"She loves movies," Olivia added. "Before we lost our home, she used to have quite a collection."

His heart went out to the mother and daughter; he could see why Tony was drawn to them. They were people who having lost everything, still managed to care about the well being of others. "Do you mind me asking what happened? How did you lose your home?"

"It's a rather long story, but the short version is that…"

"My dad ran off with another woman after draining us dry," Megan blurted out.

Gibbs saw Olivia's cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Megan also has a way of getting right to the point in a conversation," she said.

"I told you I like a girl with spunk," Gibbs reminded her. "I am sorry, though. You're husband is a fool."

"Todd, I mean Tony, said the same thing, although I think that he used some slightly more colorful words."

Megan eagerly agreed. "Yeah, he called him a pompous son of a…."

"Megan Renee Carter! Do I need to take you to the restroom and wash your mouth out with soap again?"

The team leader grinned. "You better listen to your mom," he warned. "She used all three names."

"I know," Megan muttered, rolling her eyes simultaneously.

The door opened and Ducky and Abby entered the room. The Goth was carrying a tray of drinks with a bag setting on top. She handed a coffee to Gibbs and then picked up another cup.

"Did someone here order hot chocolate?" she asked.

"I did!" the young girl excitedly proclaimed.

Gibbs took the other coffee and gave it to Olivia as he introduced Abby and Ducky to their guests. "This is Olivia Carter and her daughter Megan. They came here looking for Todd Gibbs, but I've explained to them who Todd really is. They're going to try and fill us in on some of DiNozzo's life this past year." He turned to the mother and daughter. "Olivia and Megan, this is Abby Scuito and Dr. Donald Mallard; they're some of Tony's friends as well."

The small group quickly exchanged pleasantries waited for Ducky and Abby to sit down at the table. "Mrs. Carter, you can begin when you're ready," Gibbs urged.

"Well, the first time I saw Tony was in the alley out behind the shelter. He was huddled in a corner, sitting in his own filth and vomit. The clothes he had on were torn and dirty and he didn't have any shoes. I tried to approach him, but anytime I got near him, he would start cursing and fighting.. I remember thinking that he looked so scared.

"I started leaving him a plate of food and a cup of coffee where he could get it, but he wouldn't touch it. He kept mumbling something about his name being Todd Gibbs and that he had never heard of NCIS. Tony stayed in that alley for about two days before he finally passed out."

"Then what happened?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"I got several men from the shelter and they carried him inside. He woke up as soon as we laid him on the cot. He started fighting them and they finally just left him alone. I tried to tell him who I was, but I'm not sure he could even understand what I was saying."

Gibbs swallowed hard. He couldn't start having second thoughts now; the team leader had to know what happened. How else could he help Tony?

"Are you all right, Agent Gibbs?" Olivia asked, concern evident in her weary features.

"Yeah. Please continue," he insisted.

"Tony stayed in the corner of the room talking to himself, always watching his surroundings. I'm not sure what or whom he was looking for, but he always had this cautious air about him as if he were guarding something precious. He was very sick, I could see needle tracks on his arms, but I'm not sure if he was shooting up or…"

"Tony would never shoot up!" Abby declared.

The team leader placed a calming hand on Abby's shoulder. "Abby, let her finish."

"Gibbs, you know that Tony would never do drugs," she argued.

"Not intentionally, Abs. Let Olivia finish."

Abby nodded and sat back in her chair and listened. Gibbs knew that he should have expected the outburst; Abby would defend Tony with her dying breath. "Go on, Ms. Carter."

"He finally passed out again, but this time he slept for three days. The first two days, he tossed and turned and would scream out in the night. I guess he was dreaming," Olivia surmised. "The third day, he just slept. One of the doctors from the free clinic came by and looked him over. He found some bruises and burns on his body as well as the needle marks on his arms."

Gibbs clenched his jaw. Someone had tortured Tony, that much was for certain, but the ex-Marine had yet to figure out why.

"Did the doctor say anything about a head injury?" Ducky asked.

"I don't know. I don't think so," Olivia replied.

"Did he do a tox screen to see what kind of drugs was in Tony's system?"

"I don't know. Probably not. Some of these doctors at the free clinic, let's just say, they aren't there because they want to be."

"What was the doctor's name and what clinic was he from?" Gibbs knew that he would need the name for future reference.

"Dr. Philip Samuels and he works out of the Harbor Missionary Free Clinic."

The team leader jotted the name down on his notepad and then nodded for Olivia to continue.

"When Tony woke up, he was still very confused but he wasn't trying to fight us. He ate some soup, cleaned up, and put some fresh clothes on. He could barely stand, but he was determined to leave. He kept saying that he didn't want them to find him."

"Them?" Gibbs wondered who Tony would be referring to; was he talking about the ones who tortured him?

"Again, I don't know. We didn't see him for about week after that. Then he came in one day for something to eat and ended up staying for a few hours."

"How was he?"

"He looked tired. He sat and down and ate with us and he thanked me for taking care of him," she recalled. "I told him that he needed to rest, but he didn't want to stay. He was still afraid of something, but he never would say what had him so terrified. It was almost a month before he would even stay the night and that only happened when he had been drinking too much."

"Do you have any idea when he started drinking?" Gibbs pressed.

"I really don't know," she admitted. "I just know that his drinking became worse as time went on. There were a couple of times when he passed out, I wasn't sure that he was ever going to wake up again."

Knowing Tony's penchant for talking about his past whenever he drank, prompted Gibbs to ask, "Did he say ever say anything that you found odd?"

"Yes. He kept saying that he didn't mean to tell. Whenever I questioned him, he would become very guarded and defensive, and angry. Very angry."

"He told me that some bad men were after him," Megan chimed in.

"He did?" Gibbs questioned.

Megan nodded. "He told me that the bad men had hurt him and he didn't know why. He was scared of them. Todd, I mean Tony, didn't like to talk about it. He'd get this strange look in his eyes like he was seeing something, and then he'd just go off somewhere by himself. Sometimes he'd just start crying."

Gibbs realized that he was only being provided a glimpse of the hell that Tony went through, but he had learned enough to know that something terrible had happened to his senior agent and whatever it was, had forced Tony to hide behind the false persona that he had created for this undercover case.

"Is there anything else that you think we should know?" team leader asked.

"He was afraid of cops," Megan said. "He told me one night when we were playing checkers. I had asked him if he had told the police about the bad men that were after him and he got really quiet and just said that he couldn't."

The ex-Marine glanced over at Ducky and Abby. Another piece of the puzzle seemed to be falling into place. "He saw something he shouldn't have," he deduced.

"A plausible theory, Jethro," Ducky conceded. "A difficult one to prove, especially since Anthony has no memory of what happened to him."

"There has to be a way," Gibbs muttered to himself.

"And we'll find it," the ME stated with confidence.

Gibbs stood up and motioned for Ducky to follow him. "Abby, make sure that Olivia and Megan are treated well," he instructed. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

The two men stepped outside the conference room. "Well, the information that Ms. Carter and her daughter provided was quite illuminating," the older man said.

"Yes it was. But, we still have a lot of questions that need answers, Duck."

"And we shall find them, but first we have to help Anthony get through the next couple of days."

Gibbs nodded. "I know. I take it you talked to his doctor," the team leader assumed.

"I did and I have to say that I feel very confident that Dr. Cole has Tony's best interests in mind. He knows what he's talking about and I agree that we should not subject Tony to rapid detox. Dr. Cole has a great deal of experience in this area, both professionally and personally."

He stared at his the ME. "Dr. Cole is an alcoholic?"

"No, but his son was."

"Was?"

"He died as a result of complications from the rapid detoxification process and…"

Gibbs held his hand up, interrupting the doctor in mid-sentence. "You don't have to say anymore. Tony's been through enough and I won't fight you on this. I just want what's best for him. I want him to get better and I want him back on my team. I want to see him at his desk, shooting spit wads at Ziva or super gluing McGee's fingers to his keyboard. I just want him to…"

The team leader paused, taking a few seconds to compose himself. "I trust your judgment, Duck."

"I'll call Dr. Cole and talk to him and _you _ need to go home and rest."

"I will in a little bit. I'm going to swing by the hospital and check on Ziva and Tony before I head home."

"Just don't stay too long," Ducky cautioned.

"I won't," he promised. "Hey Duck, do me a favor?"

"Of course, Jethro."

"Check out this doctor that treated DiNozzo and this clinic."

"I intend to do so first thing in the morning."

The former Marine grinned. "Thanks."

"Any time."

He watched the Scotsman make his way down the corridor. Sometimes Gibbs wondered what he had done to deserve such loyalty from his team. After Shannon and Kelly died, he assumed that he had lost his chance of having a family, especially after three failed marriages, but since then, his team had become his family. Gibbs would do anything to protect his family and especially his son.

"Don't worry, Tony," he whispered. "Everything's going to be all right. I swear it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Todd opened his eyes and blinked several times in an effort to bring the room into focus. He ached all over and he couldn't remember why. His gaze came to rest on the dark haired woman dozing in the chair beside him. Ziva. Ziva was her name; at least that's what she told him.

He licked his parched lips in an effort to moisten them, but it didn't seem to help any. Todd was thirsty, but he couldn't seem to form the words to ask for something. A moan escaped his lips as he attempted to sit up. "Damn," he gasped.

"Do you need something?"

"Should have known," he panted, absently struggling against his restraints.

"What?" Ziva asked.

"That you wouldn't…be asleep."

"You snore," she deadpanned.

"At least I…don't sound…like…a drunken sailor with…emphysema," he retorted, unable to disguise the fatigue in his voice.

His eyes met hers, an image of two people making love flashed through his mind. There was no doubt that the woman was Ziva, but who was the man? It couldn't be him, could it? What would someone as beautiful as Ziva be doing with someone like him? He was a drunk; his home was a cardboard box and he ate his meals at a homeless shelter.

He didn't flinch when she reached out to him and called his name. "Todd?"

"Are we…are we…um…you know, um…"

"What?" Ziva pressed.

"Are we together?"

Ziva smiled and shook her head. "No, we're not. Why do you ask?"

"Must be…a dream."

"No, you weren't dreaming. I think you are remembering," Ziva reasoned.

"What do you mean?"

Despite his pain and discomfort, he could sense Ziva's reluctance to answer his question. What if they had been lovers and it ended badly? Maybe she was trying to spare his feelings because he was sick. "Ziva?" he whispered. "What was…I remembering?"

She took his hand. "We were working undercover as married assassins. We didn't know who was watching us and so we had to act married. You told me that I snored like a drunken sailor with emphysema."

He stared at her, searching her eyes for a hint of deceit. Todd always knew when people were lying to him, but Ziva was difficult for him to read. He believed that she was telling him the truth, but his confusion only grew as did his doubts.

"Todd? Are you all right?" she gently inquired.

"No," he whispered. "I'm not."

"You can talk to me," Ziva reminded him.

He swallowed hard, hoping that he wouldn't be sick to his stomach again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Gibbs wasn't lying, was he? My name isn't Todd, is it?"

Ziva shook her head. "No, it's not."

Closing his eyes again, he studied the images playing in his mind. He shuddered as his memories started to become jumbled once again, which didn't help his throbbing head. Squeezing Ziva's hand, he opened his eyes and met her gaze. "You can call me Tony."


	15. Chapter 15

**If you've read my other stories, you know that my mom passed away last week. I appreciate your kind thoughts and support. Now things are settling down and here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it!**

Gibbs entered the conference room to find Abby and Megan coloring as Olivia looked on, smiling proudly as she watched the Goth and the little girl work together on what obviously was a special project. The former Marine found himself wondering how long it had been since Olivia or Megan had a reason to smile. As the sound of the young girl's laughter echoed throughout the room, he silently vowed that he would help the mother and child get back on their feet. They truly deserved a chance at a new life; no child should have to grow up in a shelter.

"Agent Gibbs!" Megan excitedly called out to him. "We're making a card for Tony! I'm drawing a rainbow and Abby's drawing the sun, but it kind of looks like a skull."

"I'm sure he'll love it," he assured her.

"I hope so. We've worked really hard on it."

Kneeling down beside the young girl, he reached up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I can tell. You and Abby have done a great job."

He placed a kiss on top of Megan's head and stood up. "I'm going to arrange a place for you and Megan to stay," the team leader announced.

"That isn't necessary, Agent Gibbs," Olivia protested. 'You don't owe us anything."

"Yes, I do. You've helped me more than you'll ever know."

"Agent Gibbs, I…"

"It's best not to argue with him," Abby informed the mother. "He doesn't handle it too well."

Grinning, the ex-Marine replied. "She has a point."

"All right," Olivia finally agreed. "But just for the night."

"We'll see about that."

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs."

"It's my pleasure."

Gibbs turned to leave to make the necessary arrangements when Abby jumped up out her chair and blocked his path. "Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" she cried out. "I have an idea."

"What is it, Abs?"

"Olivia and Megan can stay with me."

"Are you sure?"

Abby nodded eagerly. "Of course. It'll be fun and maybe I can learn something else that can help us figure out what happened to Tony."

Gibbs pulled the Goth into a hug. "Thanks, Abs," he whispered in her ear.

"We're going to get him back, Gibbs," Abby vowed. "You've got to believe that."

"I hope so, Abby. I hope so."

Placing a kiss on Abby's cheek, he left her to attend to Olivia and Megan. The mother and daughter were in good hands; he could rest a bit easier knowing that they were taken care of. Not that he was going to rest anytime soon. Not until Tony was better.

Gibbs got in his car and headed towards the hospital. He had intended on letting Ziva stay the night, but he was now considering sending her home. He had searched a year for DiNozzo, for his son, and now that he had found Tony, it still seemed surreal. The team leader was constantly struggling with the fear that he would wake up and discover that everything had been a dream.

He had failed Tony once and he would be damned if he would fail him again. DiNozzo had always had trust issues and it had taken a long time before Tony had let his guard down around the ex-Marine. Gibbs wondered how long it would take to regain the trust that had been destroyed by the cruelty of an unknown assailant.

The team leader cursed as he hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. It wasn't fair that Tony was in the hospital drying out with no memory of his former life; he deserved better than that. Sometimes it felt like his senior agent wore a target on his back and that there were an endless stream of people standing in line to take a shot.

"Tony, what am I going to do with you?" he mumbled to himself.

"_A few well placed head slaps are probably in order."_

Slamming his brakes on, Gibbs looked around for the source of the voice; if he didn't know better, he would swear DiNozzo was in the car with him. But that was impossible; Tony barely remembered his name. Ignoring the blaring car horns as several cars swerved to miss him, he pulled the car over and shut the engine off. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he considered the possibility that he was losing his mind.

"_You're not going crazy, Boss. You wanted to talk to me, so here I am."_

Gibbs laid his head against the headrest. The voice he was hearing belonged to Tony, but the former Marine knew that he was alone. He had to admit that he was tempted to carry out the conversation that was trying to take place in his mind.

"Ah, the hell with it," he growled. The team leader decided that he just wouldn't mention to anyone that he was having a conversation with his imaginary senior field agent. "Glad you're here, DiNozzo."

"_Where else would I be, Boss?"_

"Right now, you're drying out in the hospital."

"_Yeah. Taking that first drink wasn't the best decision I've ever made. Sad thing about life is that there are no do overs; maybe if there were, I wouldn't be in this mess."_

Gibbs shook his head. "This isn't your fault, Tony."

"_Sure feels like it."_

"Why are you always so quick to accept the blame?"

"_Years of conditioning."_

That comment would have normally earned a head slap, but Gibbs knew that he was right. It was drummed into DiNozzo at a young age that he was responsible for everything that went wrong in his father's life. Now, he was accepting the blame for something that he had no control over.

"It's not your fault," he forcibly repeated.

"_Then whose is it?"_

"The bastards who did this to you" the team leader snapped. "The blame lies with them."

"_Whatever you say. I just wish I could remember."_

"You will, DiNozzo."

"_When?"_

He shrugged, unsure of how to answer Tony's question. "I don't know, Tony. I guess you'll remember when you're ready."

"_I want to remember, but…"_

"But what, Tony?" Gibbs pressed.

"_Every time I think I'm getting close to remembering something, it's like my mind completely shuts down."_

"Don't push it. Just remember that you're not alone in this."

"_I know, Boss."_

"Tony?"

"_Yeah?"_

"You did good."

Gibbs could picture the surprised expression on imaginary Tony's face. He was well aware of the fact that DiNozzo was constantly trying to please him and when he was rewarded with genuine praise, the younger man would always seem amazed that he had actually earned a kind word.

"_How can you say that, Boss? I screwed up."_

"No Tony. You survived."

"_Thanks, Boss."_

Tony's image began to fade from the Marine's mind. "You're welcome, DiNozzo."

If only reality could be so simple, but the fact remained that Tony had a long road to travel before he could even begin to expect some semblance of normalcy. But now Gibbs knew that locked within the mind of Todd Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo still existed. He started the engine and continued his journey to the hospital, with a new sense of hope that one day his senior agent would be back by his side.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ziva sat quietly by Tony's side, watching his every movement as he continued to battle his demons. Although he was fighting with less intensity, she knew that Tony was still struggling against an unseen force that would haunt his dreams. His attempts to fight against the restraints had lessened in severity and he was experiencing more periods of lucidity, but she knew that Tony still had a hard recovery ahead of him.

She was hoping that the worst of the withdrawal was almost over. Their last conversation had ended with him insisting that she call him Tony instead of Todd. For the first time since this ordeal began, Ziva could actually believe that Tony DiNozzo was still with them and that things would eventually return to normal.

Ziva smiled at Tony when he opened his eyes. Although he was sleeping more, he never slept for long periods of time. "Can I get you anything?" she softly inquired.

"Some water."

His voice was still hoarse; she knew that the cold liquid would provide welcome relief. She poured some water in the cup and bent the straw towards him so he could take a sip.

"Thank you," he said, his voice a little stronger.

"You are welcome."

She leaned over him and began to stroke his beard with the back of her hand. He looked at her, his eyes clouded with confusion and doubt, emotions that she wished she could replace with happiness and assurance.

"Are you sure…we aren't together?" he asked again.

"I am sure. We like to tease and flirt, but that is as far as it goes. We are partners at work, not in a…personal sense," she tried to explain.

"I must be…an…idiot."

"Why's that?"

Tony licked his lips, prompting her to give him another sip of water. "Never mind," he mumbled.

"It would never work. Gibbs would kill us if we broke rule number eleven."

"Twelve," he corrected. "Eleven is…"

"What?" she pressed, hoping and praying that he would be able to recover another memory.

He shook his head. "I don't know what I was going to say. What is it with…these rules?"

"They are Gibbs' rules," she patiently explained. "I am not sure how many there are, but you seem to know most of them. I mean, you used to know most of them."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize," she gently chastised him. "Your memory will return; of that, I have no doubt."

"And if…it doesn't? What if I never…remember being Tony…DiNozzo?"

"You are already remembering bits and pieces; the rest will come."

"Maybe I'm…a better Todd Gibbs…than Tony DiNozzo."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe as Tony, I wasn't such a good person," he rationalized. "But of course, Todd's not too good of…a person either."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You don't know me."

Ziva smiled at the ailing man. "Yes, I do."

Tony shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Then you should tell me about yourself," she suggested.

"Nothing to tell; I'm just…a…drunk…homeless guy."

"I do not believe that."

"It's the truth. I didn't mean to…be bad…or do…bad things. Always been more…trouble…than I'm worth."

"Who told you that?"

She watched as Tony clenched his eyes shut as if trying to ward off an unwanted image. Ziva placed her hand on his shoulder and called out to him. "Tony? Tony, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer her. Ziva took his hand and squeezed it. "Tony? What do you see?" she wanted to know. "Tell me and I can help you."

"Leave me alone!" he growled. "Don't you know…you'll…get hurt? Leave me alone!"

"Tony, I am fine."

"I always…hurt…and disappoint…those who care…about me. I let…him down…I told them…what…they wanted to know."

Ziva took her thumb and wiped away the tears that were now streaming down Tony's cheeks. "I do not understand, Tony. Who did you let down? Who are they?"

"Go…away!" he cried out. "Please, just…leave."

"I can't do that, Tony. Gibbs would have my ass."

"Please…leave…before…you're hurt," he begged.

"No, Tony."

"Ziva."

She turned to find Jethro Gibbs standing in the doorway. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," the team leader solemnly replied.

"I think he is remembering something, but the memory is evidently a painful one."

"Go on home, Ziva," he instructed.

Uncertain if she had heard him correctly, she stared at him for a moment until he repeated the order. "Ziva, go home and get some rest."

"But I thought that you wanted me to stay the night," she reminded him.

"I changed my mind. I'm staying."

Knowing that there was no use to argue with the former Marine, she leaned over and placed a kiss on top of Tony's forehead. "Tony? I have to go," she said, her tone soft and soothing.

She felt Tony's grasp tighten as she tried to pull her hand free. "I'll be back, Tony," she vowed. "I promise."

Tony nodded and she placed a kiss on his forehead. "Feel better soon, my little hairy butt," she whispered into his ear.

Ziva stood to leave, gesturing for Gibbs to take her seat. Sparing one final glance at Tony, she couldn't help but feel that she was abandoning him just as he was about to have a breakthrough in his memory. She recalled how Tony's entire body had tensed when he had heard Gibbs' voice and how he held onto her like she was his life preserver on a sinking ship. For some reason, the ex-sniper made Tony nervous to the point that she could sense the terror radiating from her friend.

"By the way, we got the guy who murdered the lieutenant," Gibbs called out to her. "Tony's been cleared of the murder charges."

"Good. Now we can concentrate on Tony."

"My thoughts exactly."

Ziva nodded in agreement, relieved that Tony would not have to face the possibility of a life in jail. She left Tony's room and headed towards the elevator, hoping that he wouldn't push too much. Tony needed time and she wasn't convinced that Gibbs would give him the time and space he desperately needed.

Of course, the team leader's relationship with Tony had always puzzled her; sometimes it had been difficult to ascertain if they were boss and senior field agent, brothers, or father and son. It had been evident since the first time that she had encountered the team, that Jethro Gibbs and Tony DiNozzo had a healthy admiration and respect for one another. They hadn't been afraid to challenge each other, but yet they would have died for each other without a second thought.

One step forward and two steps back; that seemed to sum up the last few days for all of them, especially Tony. He was scared, frustrated, and uncertain of not only his past, but his future as well and despite their reassurances that everything would be all right, she knew that Tony wasn't convinced. Maybe Gibbs would be the one to persuade him otherwise.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you all for your incredible reviews…I'm so overwhelmed. I hope you enjoy this next post. A bit of revelation and a bit of mush! **

_He hated the dark. His tormentors must have figured that out because ever since his capture, he had been forced to live in a black void. He was bound so tightly that the binds were cutting into his skin; he was blindfolded and gagged so that he couldn't hear or speak. The only sound that he heard was the scurrying of what he figured to be rats, searching for their next meal. God, he hated rats. _

_He wasn't sure when his intense dislike of the pests first occurred, but at the moment, it didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that he needed to get free before his captors returned. They were relentless in their efforts to break him and he wasn't sure how much more he could withstand their ruthless means of extracting information. _

_His body tensed as the door opened. He tried to swallow but the gag made it nearly impossible to do so. A strangled cry escaped from his throat as his head was jerked backwards; he shuddered as he felt the kidnapper's rancid breath on his neck. He was going to be sick, but he was forced to tamp down the nausea; he didn't cherish the thought of choking to death on his own vomit._

_Todd easily recognized his visitor; he called himself Steve, although he doubted it was his real name. This man was heartless and cruel and Todd hated him. Steve had been the one to drug him and beat him; he had also been the one to…No! He would not allow that painful memory to resurface._

"_No one is looking for you, you bastard," Steve hissed as he tightened his grip on Todd's hair. "Your friends, your boss; they've all abandoned you because they know you betrayed them. You sold out. You failed them. Do you hear me? No one cares what happens to you, Agent DiNozzo. You see, we discovered your real name; you've been lying to us."_

_He tried to shake his head, but that action was met with resistance. Todd gasped for breath as a hand tightened around his throat. "You have something to say?" his captor taunted._

_The blindfold was removed and the gag was roughly pulled from his mouth, causing him to clamp down on his tongue. The taste of his own blood only exacerbated his urge to throw up. "Gonna be…sick."_

_As soon as the words left his mouth, Todd began to retch, a mixture of blood and bile staining his shirt and pants, as well as those of his tormentor. A sharp blow to his face made him cry out in anguish. "Damn bastard! Look what you did!"_

_Todd began to laugh. He knew that his seemingly indifferent attitude would only bring more pain and suffering, but he no longer cared. The agony no longer mattered; he deserved what happened to him. He had tried to resist as long as he could, hoping that he would be found; but no one ever came. No one had his six. A man can only be subjected to so much before he loses his sense of reality and Todd knew that he had surpassed that limit. _

"_What are you laughing at?" the dark figure demanded to know. "Do you think this is funny?"_

"_No," he finally managed to rasp. "Not…funny."_

"_You're right, Agent DiNozzo. It's not funny."_

"_Name is Todd...Gibbs."_

"_No it's not," Steve countered. "My partner saw your mug on TV when the feds decided to call off the search for you. They know. They know that you told us everything. I'm sure that NCIS is hoping that you're dead."_

"_I don't…know…what you're talking about."_

"_You've said that before, but we don't believe you, Agent DiNozzo." _

"_Todd Gibbs…name is Todd Gibbs!"_

"_Liar!" Steve shouted._

_Todd inhaled sharply when he felt the tip of a knife blade resting precariously against his throat. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me that your name is Anthony DiNozzo."_

_He felt a rivulet of blood trick down his neck. "I'm Todd…"_

"_Tell me or you'll be sorry. We already have extracted all the information that we need from you. I just want to hear you say your name is Anthony DiNozzo. Maybe if you cooperate, I'll let you go."_

"_Now…who's lying?" Todd challenged._

"_You still have too much fight left in you. I really thought that we had broken you this last time. I guess I was wrong.."_

_Todd felt a prick in his arm and the familiar feeling of being burned alive began to emerge. He fell to the floor and began to struggle as Steve began to drag him across the room. A sense of panic began to overwhelm Todd as he realized that he was going to be locked in what he had once jokingly referred to as the dungeon, but was really a small closet with barely enough room to sit. _

_It was pitch black and it reeked of urine and vomit, mostly his. He was usually forced to stay in the tiny room for several days at a time and Todd would have no choice but to relieve himself. Of course, he wasn't drinking much anymore, so maybe this time he would be able to hold it. Todd hated this room; the thoughts of being alone in complete darkness frightened him to no end. "Please don't," he begged._

"_It's too late. You had your chance," his tormentor growled. "Putting you in here always seems to bring you down a notch or two."_

"_Don't do this! Please!"_

"_That's it, Agent DiNozzo; I like it when you beg. Of course, my partner likes it when you cry. So, if I put you in here, I guess we'll both get what we want."_

"_Name is…Todd."_

_He could no longer offer any resistance as the drug continued to rage through him, forcing him to scream out in anguish. Todd knew that it wouldn't be much longer before he could no longer distinguish between what was real and what was a figment of his imagination. _

"_I'll be back to check on you in a day or so, Agent DiNozzo," Steve taunted. _

_Todd heard the door shut and lock, trapping him inside the closet. He lay on his side, staring into the void. The ailing man no longer had the strength to move as his tortured body succumbed to the drugs. _

"_Someone…help…me!" he sobbed. But once again, his pleas were met with silence; no one was going to help him. He forced himself to sit up as he felt something move across his feet. "God, no," he whispered. "Please no!" _

_He kicked at the door. "Rats! Let me out! Please!" he yelled, ignoring the dull pain in his throat. "I'll do anything! My name is…Anthony Di…Nozzo! I said it! My name is Anthony…DiNozzo! Now let me out! Steve! Let me out!"_

_Again, no one came. He began pulling himself into the farthest corner of the closet to get away from the dreaded creatures. Excruciating pain wracked every fiber of his body, but he forced himself to move. When would this nightmare be over? Was he doomed to a life of pain and darkness? Todd welcomed death, knowing that the outcome would be much better than the existence that was now his reality._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gibbs watched as Tony continued to thrash about, his legs becoming entangled in the sheets. It was obvious that the younger man was once again being haunted by nightmares and the team leader wanted nothing more than to be able to keep Tony's demons at bay. Placing his hands on DiNozzo's shoulders, he gently shook the agent, hoping to awaken him without startling him. "Todd, I need you to wake up."

Tony continued to pull at his restraints in his sleep. Gibbs could see where the straps were cutting into DiNozzo's flesh prompting him to make a mental note to have those removed. "Todd, listen to me. It's Jethro Gibbs."

The senior agent's eyes snapped open. "My name is Anthony DiNozzo!" Tony blurted out. "I said it! My name is Anthony DiNozzo! Now let me out! Steve! Let me out!"

Gibbs could see the fear in Tony's eyes. Something was terrifying him and the former Marine could not even begin to fathom what it could be. Tony had never admitted to being afraid of anything, except rats and the plague, but truthfully, Gibbs didn't blame him.

Ducky had once told Gibbs that Tony's greatest fear was failing him. DiNozzo had worked hard to earn the team leader's respect and trust; something that Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not give freely. Once Tony had accomplished that, the young agent had seemingly made it his life's purpose to please him.

He wasn't sure of why he had earned DiNozzo's loyalty, but he quickly discovered that it was a good thing to have. Gibbs owed Tony his life and the only way he could repay him was to help his senior field agent reclaim what had so savagely been taken from him.

"I've got you," Gibbs stated, hoping that Tony could hear him. "You're safe now."

It took a few seconds before Tony was able to focus on the team leader. Gibbs could see the pain and confusion in his eyes as DiNozzo glanced around the room, his gaze finally coming to rest on the ex-Marine.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

Tony nodded, prompting Gibbs to slowly release his grasp on the younger man's shoulders. "Sorry," DiNozzo muttered.

"It's all right," Gibbs assured him. "Must have been some hell of a dream."

"Not a dream," Tony whispered. "Really happened."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"It might help," Gibbs pointed out.

"Talking's not going to change it."

"No, but it might help you deal with it."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Been dealing with it fine."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" DiNozzo angrily challenged.

"Nothing. I was just making an observation."

"You don't know anything about it!"

"I know enough to figure out that you turned to alcohol as a way to dull the pain, and I'm not just talking about the physical pain."

"You a shrink now?"

Gibbs shook his head, choosing to ignore the hint of sarcasm present in Tony's voice. "Nope, just going by my gut."

The two men sat in silence for the next few minutes. Gibbs watched as Tony absently pulled at his restraints as he stared at the ceiling. He was surprised and grateful that DiNozzo hadn't asked him to leave; it was more than obvious that he was still anxious around the team leader.

"They said no one was coming for me," Tony recalled, finally shattering the stillness. "They were right. No one came."

"We never gave up, Tony." Gibbs winced, realizing his mistake. "I'm sorry. Todd," he corrected.

"They told me my name was Anthony DiNozzo, but I kept telling them my name was Todd. At least I thought it was. Evidently, they were right."

"You're name is Anthony DiNozzo, but I'll call you anything you want me to until you tell me otherwise."

Tony shrugged. "I already told Ziva she could call me Tony."

"So does that mean I can call you Tony?" Gibbs asked.

"Better than Elf Lord."

Gibbs smiled. "Where did you come up with a name like that?"

"I don't know," Tony admitted. "It just popped in my head."

"I'm sure that it'll come to you eventually."

Tony closed his eyes and blew out a breath. "I'm so tired."

"You've been through a lot," the former Marine reminded him. "It's going to take a while for your body to catch up."

"I guess so," Tony mumbled. "Just feel like crap."

"Things will get better."

"When?"

"Soon. You're through the worst part of the withdrawal, now we just got to work on keeping you sober," Gibbs stated.

"What makes you so certain that I'm not going to leave here and start drinking again?"

"Because Tony," Gibbs paused and grinned; it felt good not having to call him Todd. "Tony, you're going to give me your word."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "My word?"

"You're going to give me your word that you're not going to take another drink."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to break a promise again."

Gibbs wasn't sure what to say. Tony had never gone back on his word; had his life on the streets changed that aspect of the senior agent's character? He didn't think so. "Tony, I've never lied to you and I'm not about to start now, so I want you to believe me when I tell you that you've never gone back on your word to me."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Tony, I want your word," he urged.

"I can't."

The ex-Marine couldn't begin to fathom the damage that had to have been inflicted upon Tony to have destroyed the agent's sense of integrity. Gibbs figured that whatever had happed had forced DiNozzo to retreat to the far recesses of his mind, allowing the persona of Todd Gibbs to emerge. Now, Tony DiNozzo was struggling to break out of his self imposed prison and the team leader was determined to help him find his way back.

"Yes, you can," Gibbs said. _"Yes, you can."_

"The word of a drunk doesn't mean anything."

"Tony, I…"

Gibbs saw Tony clench his eyes shut. He wasn't sure if the younger man was trying to block out the unwanted images that seemed to plague him or if he was purposefully ignoring Gibbs' attempts to reason with him. Acting on pure instinct, he loosed the restraints around Tony's wrists, hoping that the simple action would begin to rebuild the trust that had been shattered by the cruel acts of twisted individuals who had taken great pleasure in torturing his son.

"I don't think you need those any longer," he explained.

"Thanks," Tony mumbled. "Hate those things."

"I don't blame you."

"I don't…like…being tied down."

"I wouldn't either, Tony. The people who hurt you, did they tie you down?" Gibbs knew the answer but he wanted to give DiNozzo an opportunity to talk if he so desired. It was difficult keeping the anger out of his voice, but he had to; he didn't want Tony to believe that the rage he felt was directed at him.

"Yeah," Tony admitted, his own voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, they did."

"What else did they do to you?" he pressed.

"They would give me shots of some kind. Made me feel…like I was on fire."

Gibbs winced, trying to imagine Tony's pain. "How often would they give you these shots?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know."

He watched as DiNozzo pulled his arms under the sheet and curled up on his side. Gibbs reached up to brush a stray piece of hair out of Tony's eyes, his movements cautious so that he wouldn't startle the still ailing man. He was aware that his agent was closing himself off, physically and emotionally, but Gibbs couldn't blame him. Tony was scared and he knew that he couldn't push the agent; he had to take things slowly or else he would lose DiNozzo forever.

"We'll talk some more later," Gibbs said.

"Okay," DiNozzo softly replied.

"By the way, we got the guy that murdered Lt. Matthews. You're in the clear."

Gibbs wasn't sure that Tony had heard him. DiNozzo remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the team leader. A trembling hand snaked out from under the sheet searching for a lifeline, for something tangible that he could cling to. Gibbs took Tony's hand in his own and squeezed it. "I'm not going anywhere," he vowed. "You have my word."

His hopes soared as Tony silently acknowledged him with a slight nod. "Maybe someday," DiNozzo quietly replied. "I can give you mine."


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you so much for the incredible reviews; I'm so blessed to have such wonderful and loyal readers. I hope you enjoy the next post. A little mush and a lot of angst at the end! Happy Halloween!**

It had been a long time since Abby had tucked anyone in, especially a little girl. Olivia Carter had fallen asleep on her couch after her bath and Abby had taken great care to make sure that she was warm and comfortable. She took a moment to study the young girl, wondering if her dreams were of handsome princes and living happily ever after or if her life on the streets had dashed her hopes of a fairy tale life.

"Is she asleep?"

Abby looked up to see Megan entering the living room, now wearing one of the Goth's sleeping gowns and a black plush robe. "She's been asleep for a few minutes," she quietly replied. "I see you found the clothes I left for you."

"Yes I did. Abby, I can't thank you enough for opening your home up to us."

"I'm glad you're here."

The Goth smiled at the world weary woman, whose difficult life had not diminished her gentleness. "You really mean that, don't you?" Megan asked.

"Of course I do."

"You didn't have to do this."

"I know, but I wanted to. It was the least I could do after all you've done for Tony," she reasoned.

"We really didn't do much. We just tried to look out for him, just like he tried to look out for us."

"You cared," Abby pointed out. "That's a lot more than most people do."

"Todd, I mean Tony is very special to you isn't he?" Megan observed.

"Yes he is," she admitted. Tony held a very special place in her heart. While neither would ever cross the line of lover, their shameless flirting and constant teasing had forged a friendship so deep that it couldn't be defined by mere words. He was more than a friend and closer than a brother.

"We've known each other a long time," Abby told her. "I think he knows everything about me there is to know, just like I know everything about him. We would spend hours after work either clubbing or sometimes we would just sit around and watch movies and gorge ourselves on pizza, beer, and ice cream, talking about everything from sex to our childhood memories. He used to tell me that he could be himself around me; you know, drop his guard."

"I know what you mean," Megan said. "He would talk to me and Olivia for hours, but he was so agitated around anyone else. People just started avoiding him, calling him crazy among other things. He would always sit where he could watch the door. Sometimes I thought he was looking or waiting for someone and other times, I thought maybe he was hiding from someone."

"He was scared," Abby stated.

"Yes, he was. I have a feeling that fear is an emotion that Tony doesn't welcome."

"He doesn't show it often, but there have been a few times I've seen Tony afraid," she recalled. "I think he's scared now."

"I can only imagine what he's going through. Olivia used to fuss at him for drinking so much, but he would just tell her that it helped him to forget."

Puzzled, Abby asked, "Forget what?"

"I don't know. All he ever said was that drinking helped him to forget what he had done."

"You don't know what he meant?"

Megan shook her head. "No. One time right before he passed out, he mumbled something about not meaning to tell; I'm not sure what he meant."

"Once he starts feeling better and the alcohol is completely out of his system, he'll start remembering more," Abby insisted.

"I hope so. I'd really like to see him get his life back. He's a good man and deserves to be happy."

Abby smiled at her new found friend. "I'm glad you were there for him."

"Me too," Megan whispered. "I just wish we could have done more."

"What do you mean?"

She noticed that Megan's hands were beginning to tremble. "There were nights that he would wake up screaming as if he were in agony," the young mother quietly sobbed. "I would try and wake him up from his nightmare but sometimes, all I could do was hold him while he begged for the pain to stop. Whenever he woke up, it took him a while to realize that he was safe. I would let him go sit in the corner because I could tell that he wasn't comfortable with being held.

"He finally stopped sleeping at the shelter after awhile, unless he ended up passing out there," Megan continued, her voice a little stronger. "I would get really worried when I wouldn't see him for days; I guess I had a tendency to assume the worst."

Abby could feel her own eyes welling up with tears; the thoughts of what Tony must have endured made her shudder. She had witnessed his nightmares many times, but he very seldom would cry out; most of the time, he was trying to be quiet for fear of repercussion. His father had instilled in him that DiNozzos didn't cry and the sight of tears usually had resulted in a humiliating punishment for Tony.

"Well," she sighed, pushing those memories to the back of her mind. "Tony's in good hands now and he's going to get the help he needs. Gibbs will make sure of it."

"I have a feeling that you're right. Maybe Agent Gibbs was the one Tony was always looking for when he'd stare at that door for hours."

"That's very possible. He and Gibbs have always had this special…connection. Abby didn't bother to offer any further explanation. It was difficult to explain something that you didn't fully understand yourself. "I guess we better get to sleep," she suggested.

"Yes," Megan agreed. "I didn't realize how late it was. I hope I didn't keep you up too late."

"Are you kidding? Why do you think I drink all those Caf-Pows?" she teased.

"Good night, Abby and thank you again," Megan said as she laid down on the cot beside the couch.

"You're welcome and if you need anything, don't hesitate to wake me up."

"You've done enough already."

"No, I haven't."

A few minutes later, Abby was lying in her coffin, thinking about how Megan and Olivia had so selflessly tried to help Tony. There had to be some way that she and the others could thank them for taking care of their friend. If it hadn't been for the mother and her daughter, Tony would more than likely have ended up dead.

As she drifted to sleep, she began to formulate a plan in her mind. She had the perfect way to show Megan and Olivia how grateful she and the others were; all it would take would be for Gibbs to set the wheels in motion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He listened to the soft breathing of the man sitting in the chair beside him. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs had remained by his side, just as he had promised. Although he couldn't remember Gibbs, he had a feeling that the agent was a man of his word. If only he could be like that; to have your word count for something showed character and integrity, two things that Tony DiNozzo, as he was now called, seemed to have.

Tony. He was still getting used to that name, hoping that one day it would roll off his tongue as easily as the name Todd Gibbs had. Tony wanted to believe that he was something special to these people for them to insist that he was their missing friend, but his ability to trust had been shattered along with his life.

For the first time in several days, he could actually formulate coherent thoughts, something that he had not been able to do in quite a while. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been sober and as the unwanted memories of his life came flooding back, he managed to remember why he preferred to stay drunk.

He drank so he wouldn't have to face those memories. Tony wondered if Gibbs knew how much of a coward he was. Probably not, because he would never accept the fact that Agent Tony DiNozzo was scared of his own shadow.

Tony sighed as he wrapped his arms around his gaunt frame. He stared at his wrists, fascinated by the fading scars that served as a physical reminder of a tormented past; a past he had tried to drown in alcohol. He had obviously been successful in his endeavors, because he had no memory his life as Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Sometimes images of people or places would flash through his mind, but he wasn't sure if the memories belonged to Tony or Todd. He felt certain that Gibbs would be able to help him sort out the pieces to the puzzle of his screwed up life, but there were so many things that he would never be able to reveal; not to Gibbs, not to anyone.

Hugging himself tighter, Tony fought the urge to run. He couldn't stand to be confined and although he really wasn't aware of how long he had been in the hospital, he was certain that it had been too long.

"Gotta get out of here," he mumbled to himself.

"You got some place else to be, Tony?"

He looked over at Gibbs who was now awake and studying him intently. Tony sensed that the agent was trying to see into his soul, but he knew that Gibbs would be hard pressed to find anything but blackness.

"Yeah," he finally managed to answer. "Anywhere but here."

"I think that Dr. Cole may have something to say about that."

Tony shrugged. "Probably so. I just feel like the walls are closing in on me."

"They haven't moved since I've been here," Gibbs teased.

He managed to grace the former Marine with a tiny smile, knowing that Gibbs was only trying to lighten his mood. "I…uh…just want out of here." Tony swallowed nervously. "Please."

"You're still pretty weak," Gibbs reasoned. "Your body has had a tough couple of days; you need to rest."

"Have you ever tried to rest in a hospital?"

It was Gibbs' turn to smile. "We've had this conversation before."

Puzzled, Tony asked, "We have?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. You had been pretty sick and you were trying to convince me to check you out of the hospital," the team leader recalled. "Actually, you tried to sneak out a couple of times, but you got caught both times; once by me and the other time by…"

"By who?"

"Kate."

"Oh." Kate was Tony's angel. She had kept him from completely losing his mind, especially these past few months when all he had wanted to do was to curl up and die. He vaguely recalled talking to someone about her, but he had never truly considered the possibility that she had been real. "Kate," he whispered.

"Yeah," Gibbs answered. "Do you remember Kate?"

Tony shook his head. "Not the way you do."

"Then tell me how you remember her," Gibbs gently prodded.

"I…uh…I can't. Not right now."

"Maybe later then."

He knew that Gibbs wouldn't forget and that they would eventually have this conversation again. The team leader was determined to make him believe that he was Tony DiNozzo and although he was allowing them to call him Tony, he still had his doubts.

"So, how about getting me out of here?" Tony wanted to know, purposely redirecting the conversation back to the original topic.

"I don't think you're ready, Tony."

Tony clenched his jaw tightly. "I don't think I asked your opinion on whether I'm ready to leave or not. I just want to leave."

"You're still sick. The doctor won't go for it, Tony," Gibbs tried to rationalize.

"I'm not asking his blessing," Tony snapped, his anger continuing to build inside of him.

"Tony, just give it a few more days and then we'll talk about it some more."

"I don't want to give it a few more days! You can't keep me here if I don't want to stay!"

"Tony, listen to me," Gibbs insisted. "You've made it through the worst of the physical part of the withdrawal and your body needs to recover. I don't want you leaving here before you're ready and before you know that you have control over your drinking. I want you to trust me to…"

Tony struggled to sit up, rage fueling his weakened physical state, providing him with a strength that he didn't know he possessed. "Trust you?" he cried out. "I'm supposed to trust you?"

Gibbs stood up, clearly taken aback by Tony's outburst. "Tony, you need to calm down," he urged with a forced calmness.

"Why? Because I'm _supposed_ to trust you? Why should _I_ trust _you_?" Tony could feel his body begin to tremble from the exertion, but he could no longer control the emotions that were now surfacing. Images of darkness and the feelings of fear and being alone assaulted him and he could no longer contain those voices that were screaming in his mind, crying out for release.

"Tony, I…"

"How can I trust you?" he snarled. "You left me! You left me there to die! You stopped looking and left me there! How can I trust you?"

He tried to pull away as Gibbs grabbed him by the shoulders. "Look at me, Tony!" he demanded. "I don't know what you're talking about! Where did I leave you?"

"You left me there! They said that you weren't coming because I…"

Tony winced as the team leader's grasp tightened. He began to fight against the calloused hands that were holding him down. "Let go of me!" he roared.

"Not until you answer my question!" Gibbs barked. "You said I left you; now tell me where it is I supposedly left you!"

Hot tears began streaming down Tony's face. "With them," he sobbed. "You left me with them! They said you…weren't coming because I told…them everything. I told them…because you didn't…come! I…told them everything…because _you_…didn't come…"

He felt Gibbs release him as he was suddenly surrounded by nurses insisting that he calm down. Tony felt a stick in his arm and knew that within a few minutes, he would no longer care what was going on around him. His eyes locked with Gibbs', "You…didn't…have…my six."

Tony could no longer fight the effects of the sedative. He didn't hear Gibbs quietly begging for his forgiveness, nor did he hear the team leader insist on speaking to the doctor about taking him home.


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement and support. I'm so glad that you all are enjoying this story. Now, I'm off to work on my other stories in hopes of getting another chapter or two up before the Thanksgiving holiday. In this post, Gibbs gets what he wants and McGee talks to Tony for the first time; hope you enjoy!**

"This is not a good idea."

Gibbs watched as Dr. Cole paced behind his desk, Tony's chart firmly clutched in his hand as he reviewed the young man's latest lab results. The team leader had come to the doctor in hopes of being able to check DiNozzo out of the hospital, with intentions of taking Tony back to his house as he continued to recover. Gibbs had already requested the time off that he would need to ensure Tony was never alone. Jenny had not been happy about his sudden leave of absence, but he really didn't care what she thought. He was going to do what was best for Tony; Gibbs was determined to prove to DiNozzo that he did indeed have his six.

"If you don't release him, he'll walk out of here and end up right back on the streets," Gibbs reasoned. "I don't want to see that happen."

"I don't want to see that happen either, Agent Gibbs," the doctor countered. "However, I must object to checking him out of the hospital so soon. Although he is no longer experiencing the physical symptoms of withdrawal, Tony still has a long way to go before he's well. There are the psychological aspects of alcoholism that we haven't even begun to deal with yet; not to mention that he's still malnourished and his lab work is nowhere near normal."

"Can't he be monitored through an outpatient program?" the former Marine asked.

"Yes," Cole admitted. "We have an excellent outpatient program, but I still think he needs to stay at least until the end of the week. He has been through a horrible ordeal, not just physically but mentally; I'm not just talking about the effects of the withdrawal. Tony's memories of his past life are very sporadic right now," the doctor pointed out. "What are you going to do if they all come rushing back at one time? How will you handle it? What if it's too much for him and he tries to run away or hurt himself? Have you even considered these possibilities?"

"I'll be there for him and so will the others," Gibbs vowed.

"What if that's not enough?"

"It will be."

"How can you be sure?"

As he met the piercing gaze of Dr. Cole, Gibbs felt his confidence waver slightly. Maybe the doctor was speaking from experience, but Tony was not this man's son. Tony was strong and a fighter and that tenacity had overcome many obstacles throughout the young man's life. "I know Tony," was all the reply he gave.

"I can see I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this," the doctor stated.

"No."

"All right, here's the deal. I'll enter him in the outpatient program. He will have both private and group sessions with the counselors. I'm also going to suggest that he see Dr. Walters, who is a psychiatrist that deals with PTSD; I think that he can help Tony uncover some of those memories that are buried."

He knew Tony would balk at the thought of seeing a psychiatrist, but Gibbs would get him to agree; once DiNozzo gave his word on something, it was as good as done.

"I also need to see him every day for the first week to make sure that he's tolerating his supplements and to monitor any physical issues that may arise," Dr. Cole instructed. "If everything is going well, we can cut back to twice a week. I'll give you the prescriptions that he needs to have filled and you have to make sure that he takes them as prescribed."

"I understand," Gibbs assured him.

"I hope you know what you're doing," the physician said.

"I do."

"I can't tell you how important it is that he follows through with this program. If he doesn't, then he'll eventually end up back where he started or worse."

Gibbs didn't miss the flash of pain and regret that crossed the doctor's face. He realized that once again, Cole was thinking of his son. If there was one thing that Gibbs understood, it was the anguish of being forced to live with nothing more than a memory.

"I'll start his paperwork. He should be ready to leave once the sedative wears off. One of the nurses will come up with his scheduled appointments and the release papers."

The team leader rose from his seat. "Thank you."

"Good luck and I'll see you tomorrow."

Gibbs left Dr. Cole's office and headed towards Tony's room. He knew that Tony would still be asleep, so he had time enough to make a couple of phone calls. Pulling out his cell, he punched the button that would automatically call Ducky. The ME was probably not going to approve of the fact that Gibbs was checking Tony out of the hospital, but once the former Marine explained the situation, surely Ducky would understand and would be willing to help him in any way possible. At least, he hoped that his old friend would see it his way. After two rings, the elderly physician answered.

"Duck?" Gibbs began, quickly deciding that there was no need for him to mince words. "I'm taking Tony home…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

McGee had promised that he would be at the hospital bright and early. Gibbs had insisted that he stay with Tony, knowing that he had been the only one who had yet to see DiNozzo. He wasn't trying to avoid his friend, or maybe he was. Why didn't he want to see Tony? There really wasn't a good explanation except for the fact that he was scared.

"Face it, McGee, you're a chicken," he mumbled to himself. As an afterthought, he glanced around to make sure that no one had heard him.

As the elevator neared the floor that Tony's room was on, a knot began to form in the pit of his stomach. When the doors opened, the knot was pulled tighter making him wonder if throwing up would make him feel better, but the sight of Gibbs talking on the phone quickly tamped down the urge to as Tony would say, 'make street pizza.'

Apparently, Gibbs was too engrossed in his current conversation to notice his discomfort. He walked towards Tony's room and stood in the doorframe. DiNozzo appeared to be asleep, forcing McGee to breathe a sigh of relief; at least he wouldn't have to say anything for a while. Maybe by the time Tony woke up, he would have thought of something to say that didn't make him sound like bumbling idiot.

Ziva had told him just to be himself; if he acted normally, Tony would be more at ease. The only problem with that theory was that it was easier said than done. He quietly entered the room and sat down in the chair beside the bed. Tony's arms were folded across his stomach, the bruises on his wrists a reminder of the fact that his friend had been restrained so he wouldn't hurt himself or someone else. He supposed that it was a good sign that Tony no longer needed them, but McGee had a feeling that it was simply a small victory.

"Man, Tony," he whispered. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Not your fault," Tony rasped.

McGee sat forward on the edge of the chair to discover that although Tony had answered him, his eyes were still closed. He had always been amazed how DiNozzo could sleep and still be aware of everything that was going on around him; a skill that had probably saved his life more than once when Tony was living on the streets.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah, just a little drowsy. I got a shot of something a while ago; guess it's still in my system. Feels like someone superglued my eyelids shut."

Tim's head shot up. "Superglue?" he muttered. Was there a chance that Tony was remembering something or was he just having random thoughts? He had lost count of the times that DiNozzo had put superglue on his keyboard; Gibbs still kept a bottle of acetone in his desk, even though he hadn't needed it for a while. Actually he hadn't needed it since before Tony had disappeared.

Tony finally managed to open his eyes, but McGee could tell that he was still fighting the effects of the sedative he had been given. "Yeah, superglue. Good stuff," DiNozzo slurred.

"So I hear," McGee said, unsure of what to say. "Can I get you anything?"

"Out of here."

McGee smiled at his ailing colleague. "Sorry, I can't do that."

"Gibbs said he would."

"Must be what he's doing now. I saw him out in the hallway talking to someone."

"Hope so. Can't stay here."

"Why not?"

"Don't like hospitals. Don't like doctors; I especially don't like doctors; well, except for Ducky, but he doesn't count since he mainly works on dead people."

McGee smiled. That answer was so typical DiNozzo. "They're just trying to help you," he pointed out to his friend.

"Most of them," Tony mumbled.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. By the way, didn't catch the name."

He silently chastised himself for assuming that Tony knew who he was. They had been talking just like nothing had happened and Tim had not even considered the possibility that DiNozzo still considered him to be a total stranger.

"Sorry. I'm Tim. Tim McGee."

"I guess I'm supposed to know you."

"Well yeah, but it's okay if you don't remember me," Tim quickly added. "You will in time."

"How long have I known you?"

"A few years."

"We work together," Tony deduced. "You, me, and Ziva?"

McGee nodded. "And Gibbs."

"And Gibbs," Tony softly repeated..

Tony clenched his eyes shut, forcing McGee to wonder if DiNozzo was remembering something or if he was in pain. DiNozzo began pounding his fist on the bed, frustration and anger clearly evident on Tony's face.

"Tony?" McGee nervously called out. "What's wrong?"

"I can't…I can't…do this," Tony gasped.

"Do what?" McGee rose from his seat, knowing that he was going to have to do something before Tony ended up hurting himself. "Tony? You can't do what?"

Tony's eyes snapped open. "I can't do this, Tim. I can't pretend like I know who you all are! I don't! All I know is what you've told me. I'm trying to act like this Tony DiNozzo, but I don't know who he is!"

"Tony, it's all right."

"No, it's not!" Tony roared. "It's not all right!"

"Please Tony, just take it easy," McGee pleaded. "If Gibbs and the doctor see you acting like this, they won't let you out of here."

He hated playing that trump card, but it was the only way he knew to get Tony to calm down. In a few seconds, DiNozzo's breathing evened out as he visibly began to relax.

"That's better," Tim encouraged. "Just relax."

Tony inhaled deeply and slowly blew out the pent up breath. "Easy for you to say, McGoo."

McGee stared at DiNozzo. A sense of relief and excitement washed over him at the sound of that once familiar moniker. It had been a long time since anyone had called him anything other than McGee and he hadn't realized until this very moment, how much he had missed Tony and his sharp wit.

"Did I say something wrong?" Tony asked.

"Uh, no. I just haven't heard that name in a long time."

"What name?"

"McGoo."

DiNozzo shrugged. "I didn't realize that I had called you that; I meant to say McGee. Guess my brain got ahead of my mouth again. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. I've kind of missed it."

"Huh?"

"You used to have a slew of nicknames for me. McGeek, McGoogle, McTardy, McBarfbag; you had a unique way of taking the first part of my name and attaching another word to it, depending on the circumstances," McGee explained.

McGee was confused when his friend's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," Tony apologized. "I shouldn't have called you all those names."

"God, Tony. I'm not mad. That was just part of your personality; you always kept me on my toes and I've missed having you around to do that."

"Sounds to me like I'm a complete jerk," Tony mused. "Maybe that's why no one came."

"Huh?"

Tony shook his head. "Nothing," he quickly replied. "So, you didn't mind me calling you these names?"

He didn't know how to answer this question. McGee admitted that it had been rather annoying, but at the moment, if it helped Tony to remember, he could call him anything that he wanted.

"I used to, but I think for now, I wouldn't mind at all. Just don't call me…"

"Elf Lord?"

The two men turned to see Gibbs enter Tony's room. The last time that Gibbs had called McGee Elf Lord had been just after Tony had been disappeared. When the team leader realized what he had said, he had literally crushed his cup of coffee in his hand and stormed off to the bathroom. Gibbs' inadvertent slip of the tongue had only fueled his desire to find the senior agent.

"Elf Lord?" Tony inquired. "Guess that's where I heard that name before. So, how did you get that name?"

"Long story," McGee said, hoping that Gibbs wouldn't make him explain the origins of that nickname.

"I'm not going anywhere," Tony reasoned.

"So, you want to stay here now?" Gibbs asked. "I thought you were ready to get out of here."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious."

"What's the catch?"

"Dr. Cole is enrolling you in the hospital's outpatient program. You will have to attend all your scheduled sessions as well as any other medical appointments that he deems necessary."

"Is that all?"

"Pretty much."

"How am I going to get to these sessions?"

"I'll be bringing you."

McGee could sense the tension returning in Tony that had all but disappeared while they had been talking. For some reason, Gibbs made DiNozzo nervous and he knew that if it was obvious to him, that the team leader was also aware of how his presence was affecting Tony.

"You'll be bringing me?" Tony reiterated.

"Yeah. You'll be staying with me until you get back on your feet," Gibbs informed him.

"Oh."

The junior agent didn't miss the uncertainty that now clouded DiNozzo's gaunt features. Something was not right between Gibbs and Tony and he couldn't figure out what it could be.

"McGee, go to my house and in my basement are some boxes with Tony's clothes; go and bring him something to wear home," Gibbs instructed. "I'm sure that he doesn't want to walk out of here sporting a gown that's split up the back."

"Uh, sure Boss. If you're sure that…"

"Now, McGee."

"Right."

Tim slowly made his way to the door. He knew that Gibbs had sensed Tony's reluctance and wanted to talk to him without an audience. McGee found himself disturbed by DiNozzo's sudden vulnerability; Tony was obviously scared of something. Was it Gibbs? Was it his memories? If only he could stay, maybe he could figure it out and somehow help his friend overcome his fears.

He angrily punched the button to summon the elevator. What was he thinking? If Gibbs couldn't help DiNozzo, what did he expect to be able to do? All he could do was to be Tony's friend. Leaning against the wall, he made a vow to be a better friend, even if that meant going against Gibbs. McGee decided that if Tony still seemed afraid when he returned with his clothes, that he would speak up and suggest that Tony stay with someone else. He knew that he would be taking a chance on incurring Gibbs' wrath, but it didn't matter; Timothy McGee would do what he thought was right.


	19. Chapter 19

**In time for the weekend! I hope you enjoy the post. Thank you all so much for your continued support; the reviews are so encouraging!**

Tony watched as Gibbs paced the room, talking animatedly on his cell phone to someone named Jenny. Whoever this lady was, she certainly had the ability to push the agent's buttons. The older man was clenching his fist, struggling to contain the volcano inside him that was threatening to erupt. Gibbs had informed her that he would be taking some time off and apparently she had not reacted favorably. He winced as the former Marine's voice rose to a new level, forcing Tony to tamp down the urge to run away and hide.

He wondered if Tony DiNozzo was as much of a coward as Todd Gibbs. Although, he had agreed to be called Tony, the name still meant nothing to him. He jumped when a hand gently squeezed his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Gibbs standing over him, concern radiating from his emotive eyes.

"You okay, Tony?" Gibbs asked.

"Uh, yeah. Just thinking."

"What about?"

Tony shrugged. "Nothing in particular."

"Seems to me you have a lot on your mind."

"Who were you talking to?" Tony inquired, purposefully changing the subject. He didn't want Gibbs inside his head; there were already too many voices inside his mind and he didn't need another one adding to the mix.

"Director Shepard," Gibbs replied.

Grateful that the agent was apparently not going to insist that he talk about his private thoughts, he allowed himself to relax slightly. "Is she your boss?"

"You could say that."

"Sounds like you pissed her off."

"I tend to do that a lot."

"Do ya think?" Tony retorted.

The team leader grinned at him. What had he done now? Probably something that reminded the man of Tony DiNozzo. He was beginning to hate the man that he was supposed to be.

"Did I say something wrong?" he reluctantly asked.

"No, you didn't," Gibbs assured him. "I just never thought I'd be glad to hear those words thrown back at me."

"I don't understand."

"It's not important."

"I guess it's another one of those things that's supposed to come back to me, huh?"

"I don't want to force your memories," the team leader reasoned. "They'll return in time."

Tony shook his head. "What if they don't?"

"Then you'll just build new memories, but I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to help you get your life back."

"The one I was living wasn't too bad," he countered.

There was no mistaking the disbelief in Gibbs' voice. "You liked living on the streets? You liked not knowing when or where your next meal was coming from? You liked drinking until you passed out?"

Tony bristled. "You don't know anything about how I lived, so don't pass judgment on me, Agent Gibbs!"

"I know enough. Megan and Olivia Carter came looking for you; they filled us in on a lot of things. They especially told me about how you looked out for them; that alone proves to me that Tony DiNozzo still exists, whether you want to acknowledge him or not."

"Megan and Olivia are good people."

"So are you," Gibbs declared. "So are you."

"No I'm not."

Gibbs sat down on the edge of the bed, insisting that Tony look him in the eyes. He was reluctant to meet his gaze, knowing that the team leader had a unique ability to see through the wall that he had tried to erect around his soul. "Listen to me," Gibbs urged. "I don't know what's happened to make you doubt your self worth and I hope one of these days, you'll be able to tell me; but until then, you're going to have to trust me."

"We've had this conversation before," Tony reminded him. "You're asking a lot."

"I know."

Tony clenched his eyes in an effort to block the images that began to flood his mind. He could hear a man's voice taunting him, telling him that he could trust no one. Wrapping his arms around himself, he got lost in the memories that had been lying dormant in the dark recesses of his mind.

_***flashback***_

"_Let me hear you say it!" the harsh voice demanded. _

"_No," Tony breathlessly whimpered. _

_His head was jerked backwards, forcing him to look into the hate filled eyes of his captor. "If you want the pain to stop, I have to hear you say it!" his tormentor roared. _

"_No, I…can't."_

"_How can you trust him, Agent DiNozzo? How can you trust the man who left you here to rot? If he truly cared about what happened to you, he would be here by now. He knows that you told us your real identity. You broke your cover and you told us all those juicy little secrets about your undercover assignment. Gibbs doesn't want anyone like you on his team; he threw you away like you were nothing. He did the same thing to you that your father did and yet you still say you trust him! How can that be?"_

"_I trust…Gibbs," he stammered. "Never…leaves…a man behind."_

"_Until now."_

"_He has…my…six."_

_Tony fought the effects of the drugs that were coursing through his body. He wanted to scream, but the cries of agony were trapped inside his mind. Something was pressed against his lips and automatically opened his mouth, hoping that his thirst was going to be quenched. It wasn't until he felt the burn of the liquid as it traveled down his ravaged throat did he realize that it was whiskey. It was probably that bottle that always set just out of his reach. He tried to swallow but only succeeded in becoming strangled. _

_He tried to turn his head, but calloused fingers held his face firmly in place as the contents of the bottle were continually being forced upon him. Tony managed to spit a mouthful in the face of the demon called Steve. _

_A harsh blow was delivered to his face. "You think you're smart, don't you, Agent DiNozzo?" _

"_Smarter than you," he rasped. _

_His sardonic reply was rewarded with a needle prick in his arm. It wasn't the usual cocktail that was reserved for him, this was something different. Tony felt his muscles began to cramp and he tried to curl into a fetal position, but his bonds preventing him from doing anything except laying there, struggling to escape the pain._

"_Who can you trust, Agent DiNozzo?" Steve asked._

"_My Boss." _

"_Wrong answer." _

_Despite his blurred vision, he could see Steve preparing another syringe. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer and found himself actually praying to pass out. Tony was still at a loss to discover what these men wanted from him. So many of the torture sessions had been focused on him admitting to being Tony DiNozzo instead of Todd Gibbs; he had tried so hard to stay in character, but once he had finally broken, he quickly learned that the torment was simply just beginning. Now they wanted to destroy his belief in Gibbs and he didn't know why. _

"_No more!" Tony pleaded. _

"_Then tell me what I want to hear. Tell me that you can trust no one!"_

"_Not…true."_

"_Everyone you've ever trusted has betrayed you. Your mother, your father, your fellow police officers, Kate, Paula, Jeanne, Tim, Jethro Gibbs; do you need me to continue? You're not worthy of their trust. They use you for their personal gain and you know I'm right. Do you think Gibbs truly keeps you around because you're a good agent? You're his fall guy; how could you trust someone like that?"_

_The names that he had just spouted off echoed in his mind. He no longer had the strength to argue anymore. Steve was right. In one way or another, they had all betrayed him in some odd way, some by death, others by using him for sordid purposes. He was so confused and he wanted someone to help him make sense of the jumbled mess within the confines of his mind. _

_Tears began to stream down his face. What was wrong with him that made these people who supposedly cared about him to turn their backs on him? Was he that bad of a person? Maybe he would be better off being Todd Gibbs once again.. _

_He heard the door open as another man entered the room and stood beside Steve. Tony closed his eyes, wanting nothing more that to be left alone. The second man's voice almost seemed distorted, as if it were being purposefully disguised, but Tony was too caught up in his own waking nightmare to notice anything about his new visitor._

"_How much longer is this going to take?" the stranger demanded to know. "I need him ready by next week."_

"_I think we've just made a breakthrough," Steve boasted. _

"_You said that the last time I was here."_

"_But this time, I'm sure of it." _

_Tony didn't flinch as Steve leaned over him, the syringe still in his hand. "Who do you trust?"_

_He didn't answer, instead choosing to remain silent as the tears continued to escape his eyes. Tony DiNozzo ceased to exist as Todd Gibbs began to emerge. No one had ever betrayed Todd Gibbs because up until now, he was a figment of his imagination. Steve had spent a lot of time trying to get him to admit that he was an NCIS agent, now, it was Tony's turn to convince himself that he was Todd Gibbs. He looked forward to the day where he could escape the pain of realizing that he was worthless. Todd was not going to let anyone get close enough to hurt him and he could live his life from day to day, satisfied with being a face in the crowd._

"_I think we've got him where we want him," Steve said. "A few more days, he'll do whatever we want him to, no questions asked."_

"_Good. I'll be back on Friday. Have him ready," the dark figure ordered._

"_You got it."_

_He didn't dare move for several minutes after he heard the door close. The transformation from Tony to Todd had not been difficult. Todd didn't have to live with the knowledge that he'd been betrayed by those who had supposedly cared about him. Nothing mattered anymore. A new life was awaiting him and all he had to do was get out of this hell hole._

_***end flashback***_

He had no idea how long Gibbs had been calling his name. Until he felt someone grab his hands, Tony hadn't realized that he had been pulling his hair. Jerking his wrists free, he wrapped his arms around himself.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"You kind of drifted off," Gibbs said. "Memories?"

Tony hugged himself tighter. "Maybe. Everything's kind of jumbled."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

"All right. We'll talk later."

The young man knew that Gibbs wasn't simply making a statement, he was making a promise. He stared at the team leader, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, the nurse had chosen that very moment to bring him his discharge papers and instructions.

"So, I hear somebody wants to leave us," the nurse cheerfully greeted.

Tony nodded, although at that very moment, he was having second thoughts. "Guess so,"

"All right. My name is Emily and I'm going to go over your release papers and make sure that you understand the instructions that Dr. Cole has left for you."

"Okay."

He didn't miss the worried glance that she exchanged with Gibbs. They both knew that he probably had no business leaving the hospital, and though he was skeptical about staying with Gibbs, Tony knew he could no longer stand to be confined within the hospital walls. He sat up straighter and focused his attention on the young woman as she began to explain to him the importance of taking his prescriptions.

"I'll give these to Agent Gibbs and I'm sure that he'll help you to remember to take them," Emily continued. "I'm also giving him a list of your follow up appointments and it's very important for you to keep them all. After all, we don't want to see you back here again for a long time."

Tony rolled his eyes. Emily was just a little too perky for his tastes. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her attempts to flirt with him. He had seen her kind walk by him too often, not wanting to acknowledge that he even existed. "If I have anything to say about it, you won't have to worry about seeing me again," he rudely snapped.

Ignoring his blatant hostility, she handed him a clipboard and a pen. "If you'll just sign here, you can leave whenever you're ready," Emily coolly informed him.

He took the pen in his trembling hand and started to sign Todd Gibbs, but stopped after he had made the 'o'. After a few seconds, he crossed it out and began to write 'Anthony DiNozzo'. It was hard to believe that a simple thing such as writing his name required such great concentration.

The nurse left and he and Gibbs were alone once again. "As soon as McGee gets here with your clothes, we'll get out of here," the team leader stated.

"Okay."

"Was there a reason that you were so rude to the nurse? The Tony DiNozzo that I know would have had her phone number before she had gotten through the door."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the Tony DiNozzo that you knew."

"Yes, you are. You just don't realize it yet."

"I'm not the one having trouble accepting reality," he growled.

"What reality are you referring to, DiNozzo?"

Tony swung his feet over the side of his bed. "The only one I remember. A reality where I don't have to worry about trusting anybody."

"Sounds lonely."

"Actually, it's not. At least there's no one to let me down; I can live my own life and not worry about pleasing anybody but myself."

"And where you can drown all your problems in a cheap bottle of whiskey," Gibbs retorted.

Shakily standing to his feet, Tony balled up his fist. "Don't you dare judge me! I didn't deserve what happened to me! Don't you see that what happened isn't my fault? But I ended up paying the price!"

"What did happen?" Gibbs pressed.

"They took me and drugged me. They…"

Tony tightly clenched his eyes. Why was his memory suddenly going blank? It was like a wall had been erected in his mind and what he wanted was on the other side, but he couldn't reach it.

"They what, Tony?"

"I don't know. It goes blank. A while ago, I remembered everything, but now it's gone. I know it sounds stupid but…"

"No it doesn't and you're right. None of this is your fault. When we get to the house, I'll put a BOLO on the guys who hurt you. We'll catch them."

Tony slid to the floor and raked his hands through his hair. "I can't handle this, Gibbs. I can't handle trying to be someone I can't remember."

Gibbs knelt down beside him. "But you do remember, Tony. You may not realize it, but you're getting more of your memory back day by day," Gibbs encouraged. "You've just got to take it one day at a time."

"For how long?"

"For as long as it takes."

Tony drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head. "God, I need a drink."

"Water?"

"Nope."

"Coffee?"

"Whiskey."

"Not going to happen, DiNozzo."

"You really think you can stop me?"

The agent grinned. "Yep."

Tony returned his smile. "We'll see."

"Guess so."

"So, what's there to do at your house?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I'm building a boat."

"Do you live near the ocean?"

"Nope?"

"Near a lake?"

"Nope. It's in my basement."

"Your basement?"

"Yep."

Tony shook his head. "Not the strangest thing I've heard of. Do you have a TV?"

"In the basement."

"Sorry I asked."

Standing up, Gibbs offered Tony a hand. "Let's get you up off the floor."

Tony took the proffered hand and allowed Gibbs to help him up. As he sat down on the bed, there was a knock on his door. Hoping that it was McGee with his clothes, he called out, "Come on in."

As he looked up, he saw a petite red headed woman enter the room. She looked familiar, but he couldn't place her face. Whoever she was, she certainly managed to have an adverse effect on Gibbs.

"I thought I told you to keep your distance," Gibbs warned.

"I told you that I have every right to be here," the woman replied. "After all, he's one of my agents."

He continued to stare at the woman as she walked over to him. "Tony, I'm Director Jenny Shepard and while I'm sure that you may not remember me, I'm…"

Visions of an exploding car assaulted his mind, nearly causing him to topple off the bed. Gibbs had mentioned her name earlier, but until he had seen her, he hadn't made a connection. "I know you," he whispered. "They mentioned your name."

Gibbs grabbed him by shoulder, helping him regain his balance. "Who Tony?"

"The men who…the men who were holding me. They said something about Director Shepard…"

"Tony?"

"I don't know. I just heard them say her name."

"It's all right, Tony. Take it easy," Gibbs said.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Tony," Jenny apologized. "I promise you that I have no idea why they would mention my name, but I will definitely look into it."

He continued to stare at the Director, trying to recall why her name had been mentioned during his captivity. Was she someone else that had betrayed him by shattering his trust? Why could he remember her name and not his own? What part, if any, did she play during that dark time of his life? Tony laid his head on Gibbs' shoulder, reminiscent of a child seeking comfort from his father; there were too many questions and no answers forthcoming. He began to wonder if he was going to have spend the rest of his life living a lie or if he was ever going to remember the man called Tony DiNozzo.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hope everyone had a blessed holiday! Things are back to a normal schedule, well as normal as they can be with snow and below freezing temperatures. So, if someone who lives someplace warm could send me sunshine and temperatures at least in the 60's (or higher), that would definitely help the muses! LOL. Thank you all for being such supportive and loyal readers; I really do appreciate it from the bottom of my heart! Hope you enjoy this next post! **

The team leader glared at the Director, curious as to the reason why she seemed so familiar to DiNozzo. Gibbs had not forgotten how she used his senior agent for her personal crusade against La Grenouille; nor had he forgiven her for the emotional scars that Tony still bore. Surely Jenny wouldn't be involved in DiNozzo's disappearance and subsequent torture. After witnessing some of the nightmares that Tony had been reliving, he could only imagine the torment that the younger man had experienced. If he discovered that Jenny was responsible for any of his agent's suffering, she would not get the opportunity to hide behind the Director's chair this time.

He glanced towards the door and then back at Jenny, silently indicating that it was past time for her to leave.

Acknowledging his subtle suggestion with an almost imperceptible nod, she nervously smiled at DiNozzo. "I've got be going Tony. I hope you feel better very soon; we certainly do miss you."

"Thanks," Tony mumbled.

"If you need anything," she quickly added, "please don't hesitate to ask."

"Yes ma'am."

Gibbs took the Director by the arm and escorted her towards the door. "I'll be back in a minute, Tony," he assured his senior agent. Tony didn't answer him, but then again, he really didn't expect one.

He guided her down the hallway, away from Tony's room. DiNozzo's hearing had always been exceptional and he was not going to take the chance that Tony would overhear his and Jenny's conversation. They passed McGee, who was carrying a duffle bag containing what Gibbs assumed to be a change of clothes for DiNozzo.

"Tony's waiting on you. Help him if he needs it, but only if he asks," he instructed the junior agent as he and Jenny continued walking.

"Um…all right," McGee stammered. "Is everything okay, Boss?"

Gibbs figured that the junior agent was confused as to why the team leader was forcibly leading the Director of NCIS down the hall. Unfortunately, McGee would just have to stay confused for now. "Just fine, Tim. I won't be long."

Leaving the younger man to carry out his orders, he pulled Jenny inside to the first vacant room he could find. She jerked free of his grasp, anger radiating from her piercing gaze. "That was completely unnecessary," she exclaimed. "Just who do you think you are?"

"Don't try and pull that crap with me," Gibbs barked. "I told you not to come; Tony's got a lot to deal with and you coming here hasn't helped matters any."

"I barely had the chance to say anything to him."

"You obviously didn't have to," he argued. "Evidently just seeing you brought back some unpleasant memories."

"That's not true!"

He clenched his jaw as he struggled to rein in his precarious temper. "You've got to admit Jen, that even before he disappeared, things weren't great between you two. He was still recovering from the whole 'Frog' ordeal before this happened. He was hurt by your thirst for vengeance and you didn't care. Now, he comes back after a year with no memory of any of us, but he sees you one time and he remembers something. You know I don't believe in coincidences."

"Well, that's all this is Jethro. How could you even think that I would have something to do with Tony's disappearance?"

"You tell me. I used to know you and could tell what you were thinking, but ever since you sat down in the big chair, I don't know who you are any more!"

"I had nothing to do with Tony's disappearance," she forcibly repeated. "I was concerned about him; that's the only reason I'm here."

"I hope you're telling me the truth, because if you're not, there'll be hell to pay!" he vowed.

She placed her hands on her hips, refusing to back down from the ex-Marine. "Do you know what I think, Jethro?"

"Nope."

"I think that you're jealous because Tony responded to me and…"

"Don't even go there, Director Shepard," he snarled. "Just stay away. I'll keep you posted on his condition."

Turning sharply, he flung open the door, gesturing for her to leave the room. "I'm sure that you can find your way out of the hospital."

"We're not through with this discussion."

"Fine. We'll continue it when I get back to work."

"And when will that be? You never gave me a definite date of your return."

"I don't know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back and check on Tony."

His icy stare followed Jenny as she walked out the door and down the corridor. He didn't know if he believed her or not; time would certainly tell if she were telling him the truth. The one thing that he did know for certain was that Tony's recovery was his only priority. He had to believe that deep down, DiNozzo was struggling to get out of the box that he had been forced to hide in so that he could save his sanity. The only problem was that the box was locked up tight, and so far, no one had found the key to open it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony stared at the door that Jenny and Gibbs had just exited through moments ago. His gut was still telling him that he knew this woman, or at least had heard her name in conversation, but he was drawing a blank. Gibbs seemed to have an air of animosity towards her making Tony wonder if there was some kind of unspoken history between the two of them.

He startled at the sound of someone knocking on the door. "Come in," he tentatively replied.

It was the Elf Lord. Tony struggled to pull the man's real name from the new file that he was creating in his mind. McGoo. No, that wasn't it. McGillicutty. No, that was Lucy Ricardo's maiden name. He shook his head at the random thoughts that were running through his head, while silently willing the right name to come out of his mouth.

"Hey Tony," the younger man greeted.

"Hey," he quietly answered.

"I've brought you some clothes. As soon as you're dressed, you can get out of here."

"Sounds good."

Tony grinned as a name finally came to him. He just hoped it was the right one. "Thanks, Tim."

"You're welcome. You're memory is getting better; you remembered my name."

He nodded as he blew out a pent up breath. "Yeah, but you don't know how many names I had to go through to get the right one. I'm still not sure about your last name."

"McGee," Tim reminded him.

"McGee," he repeated several times, hoping that the act of repetition would help him remember it in the future.

Tony took the duffle bag from McGee and opened it. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a change of underwear and socks. "Nice," he muttered. "I'm a boxer guy, huh?"

"I…uh…uh...yeah," McGee answered. "I mean I never looked; I just um…"

He shook his head in amusement at Tim's apparent embarrassment as he pulled out a pair of tennis shoes. "Nike. Look brand new."

"You bought them a week or so before you disappeared. We were at lunch and you saw them in the store window and had to have them. You're old running shoes had pretty much bit the dust."

"Expensive."

"Yeah. You always had expensive taste in clothing."

Tony looked up at McGee. "I did?"

"Yeah. Name brands and designer labels. You used to tell me that you had to pay for quality."

"Oh." He wasn't sure what else to say. Reaching in, he pulled out the last item; an Ohio State sweatshirt. "Buckeye," he whispered.

"You went to college at Ohio State," McGee explained. "You played sports and…"

"My leg was broken in a football came."

"Yes. Do you remember anything else?"

Tony closed his eyes and after a few seconds shook his head in frustration. "No. Do you remember how when a TV station went off the air and nothing was left but that picture and that loud, annoying hum? Well, that's kind of what my memory does. It'll be going along and then it suddenly goes off the air."

McGee smiled. "Don't worry about it. I have a feeling that you'll be seeing things in high definition in no time."

"High definition?"

"I'll explain it later," Tim promised.

Laying aside his clothes, he shakily rose to his feet. Tony used the bed to hold onto until he gained his balance, waiting patiently for his world to stop spinning. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw McGee take a step towards him, hovering nearby just in case he needed him.

"You okay?" he agent asked.

"Yeah, just gotta get my feet under me."

Tony slowly pulled on his underwear and pants before he removed the hospital gown. When he buttoned them, he noticed that his jeans were hanging loosely on his hips.

"Looks like you lost some weight," Tim observed.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Tony retorted as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head. He sat down on the bed as the room started to sway once again.

"Tony?" McGee called out to him. "Are you all right?"

"Just moved too fast."

After a few minutes, Tony picked up his socks, wondering how he was going to manage getting them on; he could barely tolerate sitting up and he knew that he couldn't bend over without excruciating pain. Every muscle in his body was still aching from the withdrawal. He hated asking for help, but given his current options, he had no choice.

"Do you think that you could uh…" Reluctantly, he held the socks out to McGee.

"Sure, Tony. No problem."

He watched McGee as the younger man effortlessly slipped his socks on and then put his shoes on as well. Tony was amazed at the simple act of kindness. Most people would look down their nose at him on the rare occasion when he had asked for help; everyone but Megan and Olivia. He guessed that he could now add Tim McGee to the list of people that he could call friend.

Tony cleared his throat. "Thanks, McGee."

"You're welcome."

The two men sat in companionable silence for the next couple of minutes. Tony still felt embarrassed that McGee had to put his socks and his shoes on him; it was hard to accept help from strangers when you had learned to expect the worse in people.

"So, did you see Gibbs and the red head out in the hall?" Tony finally asked, shattering the stillness of the moment.

"You mean Director Shepard?"

"Yeah."

Tim nodded. "I passed them in the hall. Gibbs didn't look too happy."

"That's one way of putting it. I'd say he was pissed."

"That's probably a more accurate description," the agent agreed. "Do you know why he was pissed?"

"Not really," he admitted. "She came in my room and introduced herself. I thought I recognized her name. I remember hearing it when…"

"When what?"

"It's not important." Tony didn't want to think about his captivity. Truthfully, he couldn't face those memories, except in his dreams.

"Tony? You can talk to me," McGee urged. "I just want to help."

"I know."

Tony stood up and using the bed, he braced himself and slowly made his way to the window. He stared out across the parking lot, the thought of facing the world sober terrifying him. Life was so much easier when he could drink until his problems ceased to exist. But now he was clean and his troubles had seemed to magnify.

"What's Gibbs' house like?" he asked, his eyes now fixed on the horizon.

McGee joined him at the window. "It's nice. It's got a lot of room."

"Does he live alone?"

"Yeah, he does. Gibbs spends most of his time in his basement."

"Why?"

"Working on his boat."

Tony stared at McGee, disbelief etched in his gaunt features. "His boat?"

"Yes. He's building a boat in his basement," Tim explained.

"In…his basement?"

"Got a problem with that, DiNozzo?"

Tony flinched at the sound of his name. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Gibbs enter the room. He didn't like people sneaking up on him; he had spent a long time looking over his shoulder and to be caught off guard unnerved him. "No problem," he tersely replied. "I've just never heard of anyone building a boat in their basement before."

"We all deal with things in our own way, Tony," Gibbs pointed out. "When life begins to get to be too much, it's nice to have something else to turn to."

"And I guess your way is better than mine?"

"What do you mean?"

"You build boats and I get drunk."

"That's not what I meant."

Tony turned back to stare out the window. He wasn't trying to pick a fight with Gibbs; after all, the man was opening up his home to him. Gibbs was putting his life on hold just to help him and all he could manage to do was to hurl insults at the Marine. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Guess my nerves are still a little on edge."

"That's understandable," Gibbs replied.

He could tell by the stern expression on Gibbs' face that he didn't buy his flimsy excuse. "McGee, go bring the car around," Gibbs instructed. "We'll meet you out front."

"On it, Boss," Tim replied.

Tony didn't miss the sound of relief in McGee's voice. He figured that the agent was grateful that he would have a respite from the awkwardness between him and Gibbs.

Gibbs put his hand on his shoulder and gently urged him to turn around. "Want to tell me what's going on with you?" the older man inquired.

"Nothing. I don't know why I said what I said. My mouth got ahead of my brain," Tony attempted to reason.

"Tony, I…"

"Just drop it, Gibbs!" he growled. "God, you're like a pit bull when you get your teeth into something! Like it or not, I'm a drunk and drinking is how I handle my problems! You build freakin' boats in your basement, and that's how you handle your problems. End of discussion, Gibbs."

"Do I need to remind you that you haven't had a drink in several days?"

Tony held up his trembling hand. "Nope. Everywhere I turn I've got a reminder."

"It'll get better," Gibbs vowed.

"That's what everybody keeps telling me."

"I know it just seems like a bunch of words right now, but I promise you that we'll just take it a day at a time until it does get better."

Tony had lost count of how many times Gibbs had told him that he could trust him. He had always prided himself on his self reliance, but that had been shattered by the cruelty of others. Trust was something that he couldn't give easily and now people were starting to demand it from him.

He jumped when Gibbs squeezed his shoulder. That was the second time in the last few minutes that the ex-Marine had caught him by surprise. "Please don't do that," Tony whispered.

"I'm sorry; I wasn't thinking. Just wanted you to know your ride is here."

Tony glanced at the wheelchair now stationed by his bed. "I can walk," he protested.

"Hospital rules. You gotta ride until we get out the front door."

"And you always follow the rules?"

"My rules," Gibbs replied.

"Guess I'll be learning about those pretty soon."

"Guess you will. Now sit down."

Too tired to put up too much resistance, Tony carefully made his way to the chair and sat down. Gibbs crammed his release papers inside his duffle bag and handed it to him. He was still nervous about going to the agent's home, but at the moment, it was his only option. As they waited for the elevator, he looked up at the silver haired man.

"So Gibbs, tell me something."

"What?"

Tony permitted a soft chuckle to escape his lips. "How_ do_ you get that boat out of the basement?"

Gibbs returned his smile. "You stick around long enough and I'll show you."


	21. Chapter 21

**Just in time for the weekend. Thank you all for your continued reviews—they mean so much to me and really keep me inspired. I hope you enjoy this post! **

The drive to Gibbs' house had been uneventful. Few words were exchanged as Tony seemed to be more interested in staring out the window at the passing scenery. The silence was unnerving. Gibbs had to admit that he missed Tony's incessant rambling about anything and everything, as well as his infamous movie comparisons. It had been a long time since he had heard DiNozzo utter the words, "This reminds me of a movie."

The few questions that Gibbs had asked and Tony had responded to had only required a monosyllabic response from the younger man. He was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea after all. Tony's memory was coming back in what he could only describe as short bursts, but then sometimes he couldn't remember something that the team leader had told him five minutes ago. DiNozzo had been told two different times that Gibbs was building a boat in his basement and it wasn't until this last time, that the fact had seemed to sink in.

To say that he was worried about Tony would be an understatement. He wanted his senior agent back, more than that, he wanted his son back, but Gibbs knew that whenever Tony did emerge from the protective cocoon he was hiding in, that he would always carry the physical and emotional scars of what happened to him.

He pulled in his driveway and cut off the engine. McGee had pulled in directly behind him and was at Tony's door before he managed to get out of the car. "This is it," Gibbs announced.

"It's nice," Tony sullenly replied.

"Why don't we go on in and get you settled?"

"Fine."

Glancing at McGee, who merely shrugged, the two men stood on either side of Tony as they slowly made his way up the steps of his porch. He opened his front door and the trio entered the living room where the first they noticed a banner that proclaimed in brightly colored letters, 'Welcome home, Tony!'

He could feel the muscles in Tony's back tense as he read the sign. Before Gibbs could ask if the younger man was all right, Abby came bursting into the living room from the kitchen, followed by Ducky, Palmer, and Ziva, who was carrying a large cake that was decorated in a manner that seemed to cover every major holiday.

"Surprise!" the quartet yelled in unison.

Unsure of what Tony's reaction would be, Gibbs remained planted by his side. He should have expected something like this, but he had so much on his mind recently that he forgot to tell Abby that DiNozzo wasn't ready for one of her surprise parties. He watched as Tony eyed each of the team suspiciously, uncertain of what to make of the situation.

"So, what do you think?" Abby asked, her voice reflecting her obvious excitement.

Tony merely nodded. "Thanks."

Gibbs and McGee maneuvered Tony over to the couch and helped him sit down. He was surprised that DiNozzo didn't resist his offer of assistance; Tony was fiercely independent and did not like to rely on others for help, but as he often had to remind himself, the man before him wasn't the same Tony DiNozzo.

Ziva sat the cake down on the table as Abby sat down beside Tony. "I figured since you missed your birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, and every other holiday last year, that we would just combine it all on one cake," the Goth explained.

"I hate Halloween," Tony muttered.

Abby grinned. "I know, but I thought I'd just throw it in there for good measure."

Gibbs took Abby by the arm and pulled her up off the couch. "Abs, I need a word."

"What is it, Bossman?"

He escorted her back into the kitchen where he discovered Megan and Olivia Carter sitting at his kitchen table.

Gesturing to the mother and daughter, Abby informed him that they were Tony's present.

Releasing a pent up breath, Gibbs asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Gibbs, we were just throwing a little welcome home party for Tony to help cheer him up."

"Don't you think it's a little bit too soon?"

"It's never too soon for a party. We're only going to stay for a few minutes. Please Gibbs; we just want to let him know that we love him and that we're here for him."

"Abby…"

"Just a few minutes," she pleaded. "Please! Besides, I haven't given him his present."

One of these days, he was going to learn to say no to Abby. "10 minutes, not a minute longer."

"15 minutes," she attempted to bargain.

"Don't push it."

Abby whirled around and motioned for Olivia and Megan to follow her. Gibbs had to admit that Tony might actually enjoy seeing the mother and daughter who had come to mean a great deal to him this past year; maybe they could break through the wall that DiNozzo seemed determined to keep in place.

He followed the two women and the young girl back out into the living room. Gibbs had to smile as Olivia pushed her way past everyone and ran towards Tony. The little girl squealed with delight as she threw her arms around DiNozzo's neck and buried her face against his shoulder.

"I've missed you!" Olivia cried.

To Gibbs surprise, Tony returned the hug, clinging to the child as if she were his lifeline. "I've missed you too, Doodlebug!" DiNozzo replied as he stroked Olivia's long silken hair.

"Are you better now?"

"I'm getting there."

Olivia sat on Tony's lap and began to play trace the letters on his sweatshirt. "Guess what?"

Tony tiredly smiled as he leaned back, resting his head on the cushion. "What?"

"We have a new place to live now!"

"That's great. Where is it?"

"Abby helped us get an apartment in her building! It's smaller than hers, but it's big enough for me and mama. It's got new furniture, well kind of new furniture, but it's new to us. I even get my own room!" she declared, the genuine thrill in the young girl's voice warmed Gibbs' heart.

"Your own room?"

"Yeah, and Abby bought me a princess bed set with pillows and everything! You'll have to come see it!"

"I will," Tony promised.

"And Abby said that Agent Gibbs is going to help mama get a job in the cafeteria at NCIS! So maybe when you go back to work, I'll get to come and see you sometime!"

Gibbs glared at Abby, who immediately took a step closer to McGee. He had no qualms about helping Megan and Olivia, but he hated being informed that he was going to do something without being consulted. The last time Abby had volunteered him for something, he ended up playing Santa Claus for the nun's Christmas party for the orphans. At least this time he didn't have to dress up in a red suit and a white beard and say, "Ho, ho, ho!"

"Agent Gibbs," Megan said. "Please don't feel obligated to…"

"It's all right," he assured her. "I'm sure it's already taken care of."

"Yep," Abby eagerly confirmed. "All you have to do is sign the letter of recommendation that you wrote. I think it's on your desk, but I'll be happy to bring it by tomorrow so you can sign it since you're not coming in for a while."

"That would be fine."

"You know what, Agent Gibbs?" Olivia interjected. "Abby was right. You really are a nice man."

Abby wasn't the only one Gibbs couldn't refuse. He could never say no to little girls who seemed to be able to see through his gruff exterior and within seconds, have him wrapped around her little finger. Kelly had always managed to get whatever she wanted from him by simply giving him 'the look.' It was the same look that Olivia had just bestowed upon him—the look that said, "I've got you right where I want you."

He smiled at the girl and nodded his thanks as she turned her attention back to DiNozzo. "Don't you think he's a nice man?" she asked Tony.

Tony didn't look at him, but Gibbs didn't expect him to; things were awkward enough between them before Olivia had unintentionally put Tony on the spot. He was truly surprised when DiNozzo agreed with her.

"Yeah, he is," Tony whispered.

"Abby says that he'll take good care of you."

"I'm sure he will."

"And I'll come over and help out whenever I can."

"I know you will."

"Someone has to be sure that Agent Gibbs is doing his job."

Gibbs suppressed another grin, but he didn't miss the snickers and muted laughter coming from his team. He glared at Ziva and McGee who suddenly found his floor very interesting.

Megan motioned for Olivia to join her. "Come on, Olivia. We need to let Tony rest."

Gibbs saw Tony stare at Megan. He wasn't sure how to describe the expression on DiNozzo's face; the young man almost looked defeated, as if he had lost all hope.

"You just called me Tony," DiNozzo quietly stated, the look of disappointment and pain in his eyes mirroring what he was obviously feeling on the inside.

The team leader realized that Tony had been hoping that Megan and Olivia would provide that link to his past that he so desperately wanted to hold on to. When Megan had called him Tony instead of Todd, his expectations had been shattered. The only people that had known Tony during his time on the streets had just confirmed that Todd Gibbs didn't really exist.

Abby was the one to finally cut the tension in the room when she suggested cutting the cake. "We shouldn't let this incredible cake go to waste," she chimed. "I'll get the plates and forks."

"We'll help you," Megan said, obviously grateful for something to do. "Come on Olivia, let's go and help Abby."

Gibbs took the opportunity to make sure that Tony was all right. He sat down next to his senior agent, trying to ignore the fact that DiNozzo would still flinch whenever the former Marine did something without forewarning him. "You okay, Tony?'

Tony shrugged. "Guess so."

"I didn't know that Abby was planning a welcome home party."

"It's okay. She was just being nice."

"Yeah. Abby's got a big heart, especially where you're concerned."

"Not just where I'm concerned. That was nice of her to get Megan and Olivia a place to live; they deserve the best."

"What about you?"

Confused, Tony asked, "What about me?"

"Don't you deserve the best?"

"Depends on who you ask."

"I'm asking you."

Tony clenched his fists so tightly that he began to shake. Gibbs knew that DiNozzo was struggling against those inner demons that had convinced him that the only thing he deserved was pain and suffering. He placed his hand on Tony's shoulder and quietly called his name. "Tony, stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

Gibbs breathed a sigh relief when he felt Tony visibly relax. "Sorry," he muttered.

"It's all right. You're safe here."

"If you say so."

Abby appeared in front of them, carrying two pieces of cake. "I made sure that you got a corner piece since it has the most icing," she stated. "I know how you love icing!"

"Thanks, Abs," Tony said, taking his piece of cake.

"You're welcome."

Gibbs nodded his thanks and took his plate, watching as Tony took a couple of bites and then set the plate down. "Something wrong with the cake?" the team leader inquired.

"No. Just not hungry."

"You can save it for later."

The ex-Marine rose from the couch and walked over to Abby. He quietly suggested that it was time for everyone to leave and within five minutes, everyone had said their goodbyes and delivered their well wishes to Tony. Abby had been the last to leave, whispering something in DiNozzo's ear that actually made him smile.

As the last of the visitors left, Ducky had reminded Gibbs that he would be by first thing in the morning to check on Tony. The team leader had merely nodded, knowing that even though DiNozzo was still under Dr. Cole's care, the ME would not sit idly by when it came to Tony's health.

Gibbs shut the door and walked back over to the couch. "So, can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine."

Typical DiNozzo answer. "I'll show you the spare room and then I'll bring some of your stuff up from the basement."

"Okay."

He waited patiently as Tony shakily got to his feet. Gibbs was ready to offer his help but only if DiNozzo asked. Once he was sure that Tony was ready, he led him to the spare room. "It's not much, but you should be comfortable here. There's a TV and a DVD player."

"Thought you said the only TV you had was in the basement."

"They're yours. I put it them in here after you…I had to clean out your place, so I just…"

"I get the picture."

"Why don't you get some rest?" he suggested. "I'm going to put on some coffee and grab a shower. Can I get you anything?"

Tony sat down on the edge of the bed. "No. Thanks."

Gibbs nodded and closed the door behind him. He leaned against the door, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. Did he truly believe that once he got Tony to his house that everything would be back to normal? Surely he had not been that naïve. But if he were honest with himself, that was exactly what he had hoped would happen. He wanted everything to be like it had been before Tony had disappeared, but unfortunately, what he wanted and the reality he had to face were two different things.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony wasn't certain how long he had simply been sitting on the bed, but it was the sound of the shower being turned on that finally inspired him to get up. He had considered running away, returning to the only life that he could remember, but he had given his word that he would stay and despite what anyone else believed, his word was important to him; it was all he had.

Opening the door, he peered out down the hallway towards the kitchen. He still wasn't very hungry, but he was thirsty. He still craved a drink of liquor, but he figured that if Gibbs had any alcohol in the house, that the older man would have dumped it. Tony knew he would have to settle for a glass or water or that swill that Gibbs referred to as coffee, but as he learned on the streets, beggars couldn't be too choosy.

A door off to the side caught his attention. Tony opened it to discover a set of stairs going down to what he presumed to be the basement. Cutting on the light, he carefully made his way down the steps to discover the frame of a boat sitting in the middle of the floor. He walked around the boat as he studied the fine craftsmanship, wondering how many hours Gibbs had spent down here working on what would soon be a masterpiece.

Images began to flash through his mind as memories fought their way to the surface. He covered his ears with his hands so he wouldn't have to listen to the voices inside his head, but his efforts proved to be futile. He couldn't stop the words of his tormentors from echoing inside his head.

_***flashback***_

"_He's not coming for you! He knows what you've done and he doesn't want anything to do with you! Your team leader is working on his damn boat. He'd rather work on that boat than search for your sorry worthless ass!_

"_That boat means more to him that you do! He could be spending his time looking for you, but he doesn't want someone so weak on his team! That's right, Tony; you're the weak link on the team and he wants to be rid of you! He doesn't want to find you!"_

_He could taste blood from where he had been biting the inside of his jaw, not wanting to give Steve the pleasure of hearing him cry out in pain. Gibbs wouldn't want him to show his captor how much agony he was experiencing, so Tony was determined to suffer in silence. Steve stuck a picture in front of his face, but with one eye swollen shut, it was difficult to make out the image. _

"_This was taken last night," Steve informed him. "Agent Gibbs is in his basement, building his boat while you're sitting here in your own filth and blood, waiting for him to come and rescue you. You're going to be waiting a long time, Agent DiNozzo. This is what you get for trusting people; a lifetime of pain and suffering. You can't trust your Boss, can you? You can't trust anybody."_

_Tony didn't want to believe him, but he could no longer put the doubts out of his mind. The fact that there was no one he could trust had been beaten into him until he had no choice but to believe it. His anger began to build; everything that he had known was a lie. _

"_Trust no one," Steve whispered in his ear. "Not even me."_

_With a guttural cry, Tony lunged for Steve. Laughter echoed through the darkened chamber as he fell on his already bruised face. "Bastard!" Tony spat._

"_Who are you talking about? Me or Agent Gibbs?"_

"_Both of you!"_

_Steve tossed the photo on the floor in front of him. "Take your frustrations out on him; I've got somewhere to be."_

_He heard the door lock and Tony lay on the cold ground, staring at the picture of Gibbs with his one good eye. With every ounce of strength he could spare, Tony raised his fist and then brought it down on Gibbs' face. "Why?" he cried. "Why?"_

_***end flashback***_

Tony stared at the boat, ignoring the tears that were now streaming down his face. The anger that he had felt that day came rushing back to him like a river that had just burst through a dam. All rational thought ceased to exist as he picked up a sledgehammer that was lying nearby. His arms trembled as he slowly brought it up over his head.

At the first sound of the wood splintering, Tony felt empowered for the first time in a long time. He swung again and watched in satisfaction as another piece of Gibbs' precious boat lay in ruins. Tony continued to swing, the rage that burned within him controlling his every movement. Finally, he was spent. Tony collapsed in the middle of the ruined boat and curled upon his side.

What had he just done? Why was he letting these memories control him? Gibbs had done nothing but try and help him and he had repaid him by destroying the one thing that obviously meant so much to him.

He heard Gibbs coming down the stairs, but Tony refused to move, knowing he couldn't bear to look the man in the eyes. Every muscle in his body tensed when the agent reached the bottom of the stairs. When Gibbs finally spoke, there was no mistaking the venomous anger in his voice.  
"What the hell did you do?"


	22. Chapter 22

**I hope that this post has been worth the wait. I truly enjoyed writing it and I hope it comes across in the story. Thank you all so much for your continued support and encouragement! I'm so blessed to have such great readers!**

He could feel his taut muscles instantly relax as the hot water cascaded over his aching body. The team leader had not realized the depth of his exhaustion until he had stepped into the shower. The water began pelting his skin, temporarily washing away the stress that had been building up for the last week.

Gibbs had just gotten Tony settled in his room in hopes that the young man would be able to get some rest. The ex-Marine stifled a yawn; DiNozzo wasn't the only one who needed to get some sleep. His sporadic cat naps at the hospital had managed to keep him going, but now, he was looking forward to several hours of uninterrupted slumber.

As much as he was enjoying his shower, he could no longer deny himself the cup of coffee that was continually calling his name. Quickly rinsing off his body, he turned the water off and stepped out onto the rug. Drying himself off, he then donned a pair of gray sweat pants and a USMC t-shirt.

Heading towards the kitchen, he stopped outside Tony's door, trying to resist the urge to open his door and check on him. If DiNozzo was asleep, he didn't want to wake him up. It seemed that Tony was now a much lighter sleeper than he used to be; a characteristic that was a direct result of his time on the streets.

He quietly opened the door and peered inside the darkened room. His gut began to churn with the realization that Tony wasn't in his room. If it had not been for the fact that DiNozzo had given his word that he wouldn't leave, Gibbs would have already had a BOLO out on the younger man.

Making a quick visual sweep of all the other rooms, he arrived at the conclusion that Tony was either on the porch or in the basement. Knowing that the basement was his own personal refuge that he retreated to when he needed to escape, he wondered if DiNozzo had been drawn to it as well. If anyone needed a place to escape, it was Tony.

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the lights were on in the basement. Descending the stairs, he entertained the idea of asking Tony to help him build his boat, hoping that the simple gesture would help rebuild the trust between them that had been shattered by the cruelty of men who had taken obvious delight in stripping away the identity of the man known as Anthony DiNozzo.

It was the sight that greeted him at the bottom of the stairs that momentarily erased those thoughts from his mind. His boat lay in ruins, splintered pieces of wood littering the floor; endless nights of heartfelt labor had been reduced to shambles. Anger did not even begin to describe what he was feeling. Fire coursed through his veins as he gaze came to rest on the obvious cause of the destruction.

Tony was curled up on his side under what was left of the frame of his beloved boat. He was clutching the handle of the sledgehammer; his white knuckled grasp a testament to the vise like grip he was maintaining, clinging to it like it was a life preserver.

"What the hell did you do?" he roared, the fury that was consuming him evident in his voice. Ever since he had found Tony , he had been conscious of how and what he had said to the hurting man, but now he could barely control the urge to pick DiNozzo up off the floor and tear him apart piece by piece.

The silence emanating from the other man only infuriated the ex-Marine even more. "Hey, DiNozzo!" he barked. "Did you hear me?"

Gibbs walked over and knelt down in front of the trembling man. Tony's eyes were fixed straight ahead, tears escaping down his flushed cheeks. Reaching out, he grabbed DiNozzo's shoulder and shook him in an effort to bring him back to the current reality he seemed to determined to escape. "Tony!" he gruffly called out once again.

He was forced to pull back when Tony violently flinched. The hammer that he had been clinging to, fell to the floor at Gibbs' feet. The team leader scrubbed his face, trying to erase the anger from his features, as he exhibited a calmness that he did not feel. Realization and rationalization began to take the place of his rage and resentment; there had to be logical explanation for Tony's actions. Why would he purposefully destroy his boat? DiNozzo knew how much the boat meant to him and…

The team leader blew out a frustrated breath as he was forced to acknowledge the truth. The Tony DiNozzo lying on the ground, shivering uncontrollably, had no idea as to the significance of him building a boat in his basement. Gibbs was expecting too much, too soon, and if he didn't proceed with caution, he was going to lose Tony completely.

"Tony?" The former Marine's voice had lost the sharpness which seemed to put the frightened man more at ease. Tony's eyes now reflected a hint of recognition, but the ever present look of uncertainty still remained.

Exercising caution, Gibbs slowly helped Tony to a sitting position. He made sure that DiNozzo was steady before he released his grip on his shoulders. "Tony? Are you with me?"

After a few seconds, Tony nodded.

"You sure about that?" Gibbs inquired.

"No."

"An honest answer if there ever was one."

Tony shrugged. "I guess."

The team leader sat on the floor amidst the debris. So many questions were racing through his mind, but he wasn't sure he was ready to hear the answers to them. "What happened, Tony?" he finally asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide the myriad of emotions that were crying out to be released.

"I…don't know," Tony stammered.

Gibbs clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep his anger from resurfacing. "You don't know?"

"No."

"Take a look around, Tony," the team leader tersely ordered. "Does the fact that there's hardly anything left of my boat jar your memory?"

He watched with interest as Tony slowly surveyed that damaged that he had apparently caused. DiNozzo's mask remained firmly in place, but Gibbs could see through his disguise. The fear and disbelief radiating from the man sitting in front of him was overwhelming, prompting the team leader to wonder if Tony actually remembered what happened.

"'I'm sorry," Tony apologized, his voice so low that Gibbs had to strain to hear what he had said.

"For what? What happened?"

"I couldn't stop myself. I just got so…angry."

"Angry? Why?" Gibbs wanted to know.

Tony hung his head. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Gibbs snapped. "I don't believe you."

"I don't care if you believe me or not," Tony shot back.

"Tell me what got you so pissed off that you a sledgehammer to my boat?" he pressed.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry's not going to cut it, Tony! You owe me an explanation."

A chill ran down Gibbs' spine as DiNozzo's gaze hardened. The cool, green eyes were filled with venom and complete rage. "I don't owe you anything!" Tony vehemently exclaimed, pushing himself up off the floor.

Gibbs was taken back by Tony's outburst. He stood up, grabbed the young man's arm, and whirled him around so that they were now standing face to face. The calmness that he had worked so hard to maintain was quickly dissipating. "All I want to know is why!"

Tony jerked his arm free. "Because your damn boat was more important than finding me!"

"What?" Gibbs had certainly not been expecting that revelation. "What are you talking about?"

"You were supposed to be looking for me!" Tony bellowed, his wrath reverberating throughout the basement. "You lied to me! You said you never stopped looking!"

"Tony, I didn't stop looking for you. I never gave up!"

Tony didn't appear to be listening to his attempts at defending himself. DiNozzo's movements were agitated and awkward as he clumsily began pacing the length of the basement floor, purposefully kicking shards of lumber out of his path. Gibbs watched as Tony began to wave his arms frantically, as if he were fighting demons that only he could see.

"I fought so hard! I fought so hard not to tell them anything! They just kept on and on until…"

"Until what, Tony?" Gibbs asked, hoping that the memory that seemed to be clawing its way out of the darkness would not slip away.

"Until I told them what they wanted to hear!"

"And what was that?"

"My name. They wanted me to tell them my name was Anthony DiNozzo."

"But that is your name," Gibbs tried to reason.

"My name is…was Todd Gibbs, but they didn't believe me. They wanted me to be Tony DiNozzo and they wanted me to admit that I worked for NCIS," Tony continued to explain. "I finally reached the point that I would have told them my name was James Bond if it meant the pain would stop."

Gibbs swallowed hard. "When you admitted to being Tony DiNozzo, what happened?"

He was grateful that Tony was starting to remember what happened to him during his captivity, but he was fully aware of the fact that he would have to tread lightly. Whatever memory had sparked the desire in Tony to destroy his boat was a powerful one that was beginning to unleash other memories that had been buried for a long time.

"I was hurting so bad but no one ever came to find me. Everyday, they would come and…would beat me until…" Tony stumbled, but brushed off Gibbs' attempt to help him and resumed his pacing. "I would lie there in my vomit and piss, unable to move," he continued. "Steve would come in and laugh, telling me that NCIS didn't want me any more. He said I was labeled a traitor and that no one cared if I lived or died. I didn't believe him until I saw the picture of you working on your boat. I…"

Stepping in front of Tony, the team leader intentionally blocked his path. "This guy, Steve, had a picture of me working on my boat?"

Tony stepped around him and resumed his stride. "Yeah. I should have known. I should've known better than to trust anyone; hell, I don't even trust myself."

"You can trust me," Gibbs vowed. "I've always had your six."

DiNozzo froze in his tracks. Gibbs took a tentative step towards him, uncertain of the affect that his words would have on Tony. As he took another step, he saw the young agent's shoulders slump in defeat. The energy that had fueled Tony's outburst had been depleted.

"I know," Tony rasped.

Gibbs reached out and placed his hand on Tony's arm, waiting patiently until he turned around and faced him. Part of him couldn't help but wonder why DiNozzo didn't come to him instead of destroying his boat, but that would be shifting the blame back on Tony. That wasn't fair to the man before him who had lost everything including his own sense of self worth; the blame lied with the men who condemned Tony to live in his own personal hell for weeks, maybe even months. The ex-Marine knew that when he found the bastards responsible, they would be the ones begging for mercy; but he wouldn't show them the first ounce of sympathy.

He slowly guided Tony over to the stair steps and sat him down. Sitting down beside him, he could hear DiNozzo continually apologizing. "It's gonna be okay, Tony," Gibbs promised.

"When?"

The team leader shook his head. "I don't know. Your memory is starting to come back, so hopefully sooner or later."

"It may be coming back, but it's all jumbled up in my head." Tony raked his hands through his hair. "Maybe, I'm just going crazy."

"You're not going crazy."

"I just destroyed your boat with a sledge hammer," Tony reminded him. "Sounds pretty crazy to me."

"You think that's any crazier than someone building a boat in their basement?" Gibbs teased.

A tiny smile escaped Tony's lips. "Guess you've got a point there."

Gibbs watched as Tony wrapped his arms around his legs and cradled his head against his knees. There was no doubt in Gibbs' mind that DiNozzo was completely exhausted, both physically and mentally. He patted Tony on the back and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. The team leader wanted to see if there were any more memories waiting to break through, but the weariness in Tony's eyes made him reconsider, deciding that it would be better if they both got some rest.

"Why don't we head back upstairs?" he suggested. "We've both had quite a day."

"What about your boat?"

"You can help me clean the mess up tomorrow."

Tony didn't balk when Gibbs had informed him that he would have to help clean up the remnants of his boat. Instead, the young man simply replied, "Fair enough."

Gibbs rose and held out his hand to Tony, who took it without hesitation, allowing the team leader to pull him to a standing position. "Come on," he gently urged.

Tony turned to head up the steps, pausing briefly to glance back over his shoulder. Gibbs immediately saw what had captured DiNozzo's attention. He silently cursed, making a mental note to come back down and get rid of the liquor. Giving Tony a gentle nudge, the two men made their way up the stairs.

"Kind of a strange place to keep it," Tony observed.

"I guess."

"I guess it'll be gone by the morning."

"That's a good bet."

"You don't have to do that."

"No sense in having it there if no one's going to drink it."

When they reached the top of the stairs, Tony turned to face the team leader. "You don't have to do that. I won't touch it."

"I can see it in your eyes, Tony. The pull is still too strong."

"Just because I can't drink doesn't mean you have to stop. I don't expect you to put your life on hold because of me! You're already missing work and…"

"You would do the same for me if our positions were reversed."

"You sure about that?"

"I would bet my life on it, Tony. Steve and those other men may have taken your memory, but they didn't take away your innate sense of goodness."

Tony suddenly looked uncomfortable. "You okay, DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, um…I'm just tired."

"Are you sure that's all?"

"Um…just getting used to people being nice to me," he admitted. "It's just…um…hinky."

Gibbs smiled at the familiar slang. "Go get some rest, Tony," he instructed. "I'll see you in the morning. Breakfast is as 0700. We have to be at the hospital at 0830."

"Don't remind me."

"It was part of the deal."

"I know. At least when I get done, Abby's going to take me and help me pick out a tattoo."

"That ought to be interesting," the team leader mused. "Good night, DiNozzo."

"Good night, Gibbs."

He watched Tony head down the hallway towards the spare bedroom. Once the door closed, Gibbs went back downstairs to get rid of the liquor that he kept in the basement. Grabbing the bottle, he went over to the sink and poured it down the drain. Turning on the water, he rinsed out the sink and then threw the bottle in the trash.

Gibbs knew that he had a couple of bottles upstairs as well the one he had in the basement. He would not be the one to cause Tony to slip back into the life that he had been fighting so hard to get away from. Although DiNozzo had managed to overcome the physical dependence, the psychological hold that alcohol had over an individual was more powerful and more difficult to control.

As he started to make his way back up the stairs, he took one final glance at the remains of his boat. It grieved him to think that Tony actually believed that a piece of wood would mean more to him than the life of his son. The fact that DiNozzo even considered the possibility was a testament of how much damage had been inflicted upon the young man both physically and emotionally.

It was going to be up to him and the team to help Tony rebuild his life and it was a task that they accepted readily. They would get the old Anthony DiNozzo back, but it was going to take time and patience. Bending down, he picked up a splintered piece of wood and shook his head. "A lot of patience," he muttered to himself.

He gave the wood a quick sling as he headed up the stairs. Cutting the lights off, he made a final round and emptied the other bottles of liquor in the house. As the last bottle was drained, he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, wondering what tomorrow would bring.

Picking up his cell phone off the table, he dialed the number that would quickly connect him to Dr. Donald Mallard. The ME usually had some words of wisdom for him whenever he found himself at a crossroads. "Hey Duck," he tiredly greeted. "I need some advice…"


	23. Chapter 23

**Again, I am overwhelmed by the response to this story. I do hope that you all enjoy this post. Please someone send me some warm weather! Be sure that you check out the little challenge at the end of the post!**

The Scotsman leisurely sipped on his tea as he listened to his old friend describe the events of the past few hours. Ducky was disturbed by the weariness in Jethro's voice as he ashamedly admitted his initial anger at the younger man now occupying his spare bedroom. He could understand Gibbs' anger; that boat was a part of Jethro's soul and upon seeing its destruction, he had obviously felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

"My first instinct was to pick him up off the floor and beat the crap out of him," Gibbs painfully confessed. "I was so close to putting him through the wall."

"What stopped you?" the ME inquired, his cultured voice reflecting the sympathy that he felt for the team leader.

"I'm not sure. Tony was lying there on the floor with the sledgehammer in his hand; he looked like a little lost kid. I yelled at him and I'll never forget the look on his face. He was angry and he was scared and those feelings were directed at me. Maybe a little voice told me if I beat him to a pulp that I wouldn't find out why he did it," the former Marine surmised.

"And did you find the answers you were looking for?"

"Oh yeah. It turns out that the bastards who hurt Tony, had him convinced that I was too busy building my damn boat to look for him and…"

"And Anthony believed him," Ducky finished.

"Well, yeah Duck," Gibbs snapped. "What was he supposed to believe? They showed him a picture of me working on the boat; even had the date stamped right at the bottom. God only knows how long he was held captive and what they did to him! He needed us to find him...he needed _me_ to find him! I should've done something more!"

"What else could you have done, Jethro? Every available minute you had was spent looking for that boy! You have nothing to feel guilty about."

"Don't I?" Gibbs challenged.

"No, you don't," he insisted.

"I thought I felt helpless when Tony was missing, but now that he's back, that feeling of helplessness hasn't gone away; if anything, it's worse. When's it going to end, Duck?"

There was no mistaking the frustration radiating from the agent. Tony's return had affected them all, but none more that Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Ducky had watched the team leader as he had relentlessly pursued lead after lead, constantly running into dead ends that only served to further aggravate his friend. Anthony DiNozzo was the son that Gibbs had never had and the sheer torture of not knowing if his child was dead or alive had weighed heavily on Jethro's mind, nearly destroying him in the process.

"You should be encouraged by the fact that Anthony is starting to remember," the ME pointed out. "Maybe before too much longer, his memory will return and he'll be able to fill in the blanks for us."

He could almost see Gibbs shaking his head. "I'm not so sure that's going to happen. I think he's holding something back."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Part of me can't help but wonder if we should just leave well enough alone."

That was the last thing that Ducky had expected to come out of the team leader's mouth. Setting his cup of tea on the antique end table, he briefly considered the possibility of Tony never fully recovering his memory. Could they accept the new Tony DiNozzo or would there always be a silent longing for the man that he used to be?

"Is that what you really think?" he pressed.

He heard Gibbs sigh. "No. But you haven't seen what these flashbacks or whatever you want to call them, do to him."

"I understand that you don't like seeing him in any kind of pain, be it physical or emotional; but I assure you, Jethro, you won't be doing him any favors by allowing him to hide behind those memories."

"Maybe you're right, Duck," the team leader mumbled.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Ducky reluctantly asked. He wasn't sure how Gibbs was going to respond to his proposition, but it wouldn't hurt the ex-Marine to listen to what he had to say.

"What is it?"

"I am aware that Anthony will be seeing a counselor and I think that it will do him a world of good; he needs to be able to talk about his…issues with someone who can provide him with an objective view. I would also like him to consider seeing a friend of mine who is an expert in hypnotherapy; I believe that maybe it will help Tony unearth those memories that are trying to stay buried."

"You want him to get hypnotized? I don't know if he'll go for that."

"I think you may be surprised, Jethro. I think as much as we want the old Tony back, he's starting to want the same thing."

"I don't know."

Ducky could understand Gibbs' reluctance. If Tony allowed himself to be hypnotized, then he would be vulnerable and that was a feeling that neither DiNozzo nor Gibbs particularly cherished. It would be risky, but if it tore down those walls that was preventing Anthony from remembering his past, then perhaps the risk would be worth it.

"Just think about it, Jethro," he pleaded. "We have time and we most definitely want to wait until Tony is physically stronger. Right now, he's still recovering from the withdrawal and he's going to have to build up his strength."

"I'll think about it," Gibbs promised.

"That's all I ask."

"I've taken enough of your time, Duck; I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Not at all, Jethro. That's what friends are for," he reminded the team leader. "By the way, how do you suppose Tony's kidnappers got a picture of you working on your boat?"

"I have no idea, but I intend to find out."

"I wonder if it was taken from the outside or the inside."

Ducky heard the familiar pause that indicated that Gibbs was considering his remarks. "I don't know," the ex-Marine finally answered. "Maybe I can ask Tony later on if he remembers exactly what the picture looked like, but I'm not sure he'll remember."

"Another reason you should consider speaking to Tony about undergoing hypnosis."

There was another second of silence before Gibbs replied, "Talk to you later."

Once the connection was dead, the ME hung up his phone, a smile escaping as he realized that in all the years that he had known Jethro, this was the first time that he had ever signed off with a resemblance of a goodbye. "He must be worried."

Ducky rose from the couch and picked up his saucer and cup and made his way towards his kitchen. Carefully placing the cup in the sink, he then headed towards his bedroom. Instead of going straight to bed, he opted for filling up his bathtub and relaxing in a nice, hot bath. His aching muscles and joints would definitely appreciate receiving the extra attention and it would help him unwind so that he could sleep better. Maybe things would look better tomorrow, or at least he hoped so; for Tony _and_ Jethro's sake.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony glanced at the clock on the nightstand for what seemed like the thousandth time. It now read 4:32 a.m.; ten minutes later than the last time he had checked. He hated the night and the darkness that was caused by the setting sun. Sleep was constantly elusive as images haunted him, turning into full fledged nightmares that would leave him completely spent. If he didn't sleep, he didn't dream. It was as simple as that. If only he could have a drink then he would be too drunk to care about the tortured memories that plagued him.

4:34 a.m.

Would this night ever end? He clenched and unclenched his hands that were desperate for something to do. Tony needed to keep busy so he wouldn't have to think; if he didn't have to think, he didn't have to remember. The only problem with that theory was the fact that he _needed_ to remember.

4:36 a.m.

He sat up in bed and ran his hands through his hair. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he cradled his head against them, longing for the sunlight to peek across the horizon to signal the official start of a new day. Maybe this day would be better than yesterday or maybe he would just be another day closer to hell.

4:37 a.m.

Throwing back the covers, Tony swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Clad only in his boxers, he began to pace the room, ignoring the chill of the hardwood floor against his bare feet. The lack of sleep and the anxiety that was building up inside him prompted him to wonder if Gibbs had actually poured out all the liquor in the house.

"Of course he has," Tony muttered to himself. "He's not stupid. He knows I can't be trusted around the stuff, especially after I destroyed his boat. If I'd seen the bottle first, then I could about guarantee that his boat would still be in one piece."

Tony shook his head, disgusted with his thoughts. "That's really good, Tony. It's not Gibbs' fault that you have no control. Idiot!"

4:49 a.m.

He sat down on the edge of bed and stared at the floor. How could he have lost control like that? The boat obviously meant a lot to the ex-Marine and to see it lying in ruins on the basement floor had to be more than a little upsetting. Tony could remember Gibbs yelling at him, but after that, the man had showed him nothing but kindness. Why did Jethro Gibbs give a damn about him? He wasn't worth the effort.

4:51 a.m.

Deciding he couldn't stay in the room any longer, he pushed himself up off the bed and walked over to the closet. Pulling a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt off of the hangers, he slipped them on. He then put on his socks, deciding to wait until he was out of earshot of Gibbs' room before he slipped his shoes on. Carefully, opening the door, he peered down the hallway to make sure that the ex-Marine's door was still closed. Why a man who lived alone would shut his door was beyond his reasoning, but Tony figured that like with everything else, Gibbs had his motives.

Making his way towards the living room without being detected, he sat down on the couch and put his tennis shoes on. He sat back against the cushion for a moment and looked around the darkened room. Tony was surprised to notice how safe he felt in this room and in this house. He had been used to sleeping on the streets or occasionally in the shelter, but he had always been forced to look over his shoulder. That particular burden had been alleviated and he had been unable to appreciate it until now.

Tony rose from the couch and headed towards the basement door. Gibbs had told him that they would clean the mess that he had created sometime today, but since he was already awake, he figured he might as well get a head start. Flicking on the light, he slowly walked down the stairs, his weary gaze taking in the destruction that lay before him.

It was hard for him to believe that he had been the one responsible for all of this damage, making him wonder why Gibbs would even want him in his home after what he had done. He reached the bottom of the steps and picked up a piece of wood that had been splintered in an obvious fit of rage.

"God, he must hate me," he whispered to himself.

"Why would you think that, DiNozzo?"

Tony jumped at the sound of his name. He swallowed nervously as he looked up to discover Gibbs standing at the top of the stairs. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was. Slept a few hours; probably got more sleep than you did."

"I slept some," he lied.

"Really?"

"I slept enough. So, what are you doing up?"

"It's 0500."

"And?"

"I'm always up at 0500."

"Marines?"

"Yep."

Tony dropped the piece of wood that he had been holding. "I couldn't go back to…um, sleep, so I thought I'd get an early start. I don't remember it looking this bad last night."

"Sometimes a new day gives provides a new perspective," Gibbs pointed out.

"I guess."

"We can probably make a pretty good dent in cleaning it up before it's time for breakfast."

The young man shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

The two men began to work in companionable silence, diligently gathering pieces of lumber and putting them in a pile. At first, Tony had been content with the quietness in the room, but now it was beginning to grate on his nerves. The awkward stillness didn't seem to bother Gibbs, but Tony figured that the older man was just better at hiding his uneasiness.

"So, who were you talking to last night?" Tony asked, finally shattering the forced silence.

"What?

"I heard you talking to someone on the phone. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop," he quickly added. "I just heard you talking and…"

"I was talking to Ducky."

"About me?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah."

"Guess you needed to blow off a little steam after last night, huh?"

"Not exactly."

"Oh."

Tony continued working. He easily sensed that Gibbs was not going exactly in the mood to play twenty questions and truthfully, neither was he. He knew that he might as well get right to the heart of the matter. Gibbs was the type of man who expected honesty and Tony figured that he after destroying his boat, he deserved some kind of heartfelt apology.

"I'm uh…I just want to say I'm sorry about your…um boat. I lost control and I shouldn't…" Tony cleared his throat. "This was a lot easier to say in my head."

"Just spit it out, DiNozzo. We've never minced words before and we're not going to start now."

"I'm sorry and I'll do whatever it takes to pay for the lumber to reimburse you. I know that I can't give you back the hours and the sweat that you put into building it, but…"

The team leader grinned at him, completely derailing his train of thought. "That's where your wrong, DiNozzo," Gibbs stated. "I'm going to rebuild this boat, but you're going to help me."

"I don't know anything about building a boat."

"Then it's time you learned. You need an outlet for your anger besides drinking and I'm providing that."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "You don't have to do this. Building something like this is something that you share with your kid, not a loser like me."

He took a step back as Gibbs straightened to his full height. "I don't want to hear you say that ever again. We are going to build this boat together. End of discussion. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah," Tony muttered.

He tried not to flinch when Gibbs reached out gently squeezed his shoulder, but he was unsuccessful in hiding his discomfort. Tony was still attempting to accept the fact that he was around people who didn't want to hurt him. Gibbs and the others were going out of their way to demonstrate how much they cared for him and he was still unable to reciprocate their feelings.

"I'm going to go up and start breakfast. Go on and take a shower," the team leader instructed. "Food should be ready in 20 minutes."

Tony followed Gibbs up the stairs, sparing one final glance over his shoulder at the now empty space where they would build the next boat. The former Marine had to be crazy to want his help; he figured that it wouldn't take long before Gibbs regretted his decision. He cut off the light at the top of the stairs and closed the door behind him, before heading back to his room.

He picked out a clean shirt and a pair of pants and headed towards the bathroom. Reaching inside the shower stall, he turned the hot water on and then quickly stripped. Tony stepped into the shower and began to wet down his aching body. The doctors said that he would be sore as an after effect of the withdrawal, but the manual labor that he had performed this morning had not helped matters any.

Lathering up his hair, he marveled at how good the water felt as it flowed over his body. As he rinsed his hair, he fingered the long strands, wondering when was the last time that he had taken the time to get a real haircut. He leaned against the wall, as another memory began to cast unwanted images upon his mind. Intertwining his fingers in the dark locks, he began pulling his hair, hoping that the pain would stop the assault on his mind.

After a few seconds, he breathed a sigh of relief at his ability to keep those memories at bay. He couldn't afford to lose control again. He grabbed his washcloth and quickly washed his body, cursing at allowing himself for losing track of time; the last thing he wanted was for Gibbs to come looking for him. Within a couple of minutes, he was out of the shower and completely dressed.

He opened the bathroom door to discover Abby standing outside, poised to knock. "Abby? What are you doing here?"

"I came to have breakfast with you and to go with you to your doctor's appointment," she explained with unbridled enthusiasm.

"I thought Gibbs was taking me."

"He is, but I'm going too."

Tony's cheeks flushed slightly. "Abby, you don't have to do that."

"Of course I do. Because when you're done at the hospital, you and I are going to my favorite tattoo parlor and you're going to get that tattoo you want."

"Is Gibbs coming with us?" he asked.

"Nope. It's going to just be you and me."

Tony nodded. He genuinely liked being around Abby; she never expected more out of him that he was willing to give. "Sounds like fun."

"Well come on, let's get going." She grabbed his hand and led him toward the kitchen. The scent of bacon and eggs made him appreciate the fact that he was actually hungry for the first time in a long time. He sat down in the chair that Abby pulled out for him and studied the pills on his plate.

"Mainly vitamins," Gibbs stated. "Doctor Cole prescribed them to help build back up your system. Alcohol messes you up all the way around."

"No kidding," he sighed as he picked up the pills and swallowed them dry.

"I don't know how you do that," Abby said.

Tony smiled at the Goth as Gibbs filled his plate with food. It had been a while since he had eaten a home cooked meal and was looking forward to savoring it. The trio sat and ate together, the two men mainly content to listen as Abby told about the latest escapades of her bowling nuns.

By 7:30, breakfast was done and the dishes were washed and put away. He listened as Abby unsuccessfully tried to convince Gibbs of the necessity of having a dishwasher. "Really Gibbs," she said. "You need to move into the 21st century."

"Made it this long without one; I don't see why I need one now," he grumbled.

"You're hopeless, Gibbs. Absolutely hopeless."

"I know."

Tony smiled as he took his jacket from Abby. "You might as well, give it up, Abs."

The Goth threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. Stunned, he pulled away, "What was that for?"

"You called me Abs!" she cheerfully replied, as if that was the only answer he should need.

Tony wasn't sure what to say so he merely nodded and walked out the door that Gibbs had just opened. Relieved that the ex-Marine had provided him a way out of what could have been an awkward situation, he made his way towards the car. He didn't know why he had called Abby, 'Abs'; it had just seemed to naturally flow off of his tongue.

He sat in the front passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt while Gibbs and Abby got themselves situated. As Gibbs was pulling out onto the street, Abby handed him her phone.

"I've downloaded some of the tattoos that I thought you might like," she informed him. "The guy that does mine is an absolute genius, so no matter what you pick, it will look great."

She quickly showed him how to scroll through the pictures and then sat back and buckled herself in. He glanced over at Gibbs as the older man looked in his review mirror and smiled at Abby. Tony was truly grateful for the distraction; at least he could think about something else besides his upcoming doctor's visit.

Scrolling through the pictures, he tried to imagine the different tattoos on various places on his body. About five minutes later, he knew which one he wanted.

Turning around, he showed it to Abby. "What do you think of this one?"

She nodded her approval, gracing him with an alluring smile and wink. "Perfect!"

Tony turned around; his mind more at ease than it had been in a while. Now, if he could get through the next couple of hours, he could relax and enjoy spending some time with Abby. Maybe with her help, he would learn to like the Tony DiNozzo that he was supposed to be; of course, he couldn't help but wonder if the old Tony would even have a tattoo. It didn't matter. He was going to get the tattoo that he had always wanted.

**Challenge for my readers/reviewers: Send me ideas for what kind of tattoo you would like to see Tony get and where he should get it! Have fun and I look forward to seeing your suggestions!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Thank you all for your input and suggestions on Tony's tattoo. It was a hard decision with so many great ideas and I hope you like the one I chose to go with. I'm so grateful to have so many loyal readers and I can't thank you enough for the reviews and kind words of encouragement. I do apologize for the delay in posting, but it's been a crazy week! This wasn't where I was going to end the chapter, but I didn't want to leave you all hanging any longer. Thank you again for everything from the bottom of my heart!**

Tony sat in the waiting area, his stomach tied in knots as the time for his appointment drew near. He still didn't understand why Gibbs had insisted on being fifteen minutes early; as far as Tony was concerned, it was fifteen extra minutes that his mind could conjure up those fears that he desperately tried to keep hidden. Whoever had said that the only thing to fear was fear itself, was an idiot.

There were days when he would wake up after a particularly hard drinking binge, afraid of the world that he was forced to face. His nightmares would haunt him during the day; jumbled images from the past horrors that he endured would leave him trembling like a frightened child. Now that he was sober, the memories were at times overwhelming as he tried to figure out the missing pieces of the puzzle that had become his life. He was terrified of the possibility of remembering, but it was the idea of having strangers sift through his thoughts, forcing him to acknowledge the fact that he was a coward, added to the ever growing burden that he was carrying. Until this moment, Tony had never realized how much he had been depending on the alcohol to control his fear.

His leg bounced up and down, the motion exacerbated by his increasing nervousness. Tony silently wished for the drink that he knew he would never be able to have. He jumped as a hand reached out and grabbed his knee in an effort to still his constant motion. He followed the arm that was attached to the long, delicate fingers enveloping his knee cap.

He met Abby's concerned gaze; her compassionate smile instantly putting him at ease. "Maybe giving you the last half of my Caf-Pow wasn't such a good idea," the Goth teased.

Tony's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I guess not," he admitted.

"Don't worry," she encouraged him. 'You'll get used to it."

"That's what Gibbs says about his…"

"Coffee?"

He looked up to see the ex-Marine holding two cups of steaming coffee. Tony sighed as he took the offered cup, silently willing his trembling hand to stop shaking; he had no desire to end up in the emergency room because he spilled scalding hot coffee on himself. Holding the cup with two hands, he nodded his thanks.

Steeling himself for the bitter taste that normally accompanied Gibbs' brew, Tony was pleasantly surprised to find that his coffee was laced with a sweet, nutty flavor.

"Hazelnut," Gibbs explained as he took a sip of his own coffee.

"At least it's drinkable," Tony pointed out.

"Matter of opinion, DiNozzo."

Tony glanced at the clock on the wall. Five more minutes until he saw Dr. Cole; five minutes until the physician realized it had been a mistake to release him; five minutes until he had to admit that his first night as a so called upstanding citizen and not a homeless drunk, had been a complete and utter failure.

"You okay, Tony?" Gibbs asked, interrupting his private, self-deprecating thoughts.

"Yeah."

"I think he's a little nervous," Abby informed the ex-Marine.

He rolled his eyes at the Goth; someday he would have to teach her the fine art of lying.

"That true?" the team leader questioned.

"I just don't like doctors," Tony stated, hoping that Gibbs would simply not push the issue. Of course, once again, fate laughed in his face.

"Cole seems like a good guy. He understands what you're going through."

"Whatever," he sighed. "I still don't like doctors."

"You like Ducky," Abby reminded him.

"Ducky works on dead people."

"Not all the time. Who do you think patches you and Gibbs up all the time?"

Tony wasn't completely sure what Abby had meant by that comment, but at the moment, he didn't have the energy to listen to a lengthy explanation. There were too many thoughts running through his mind and he needed to sort them out before he saw Dr. Cole. He simply acknowledged his friend's comment with a nod and continued nursing his coffee.

He stared down the hallway, briefly wondering how far he could make it before Abby and Gibbs caught him. Aside from the fact that he still wasn't too steady on his feet, the only other problem with that plan was that the little voice in the back of his mind was constantly reminding him that he had given the former Marine his word that he wouldn't run. Sometimes he wanted to strangle that little voice.

The door to the office opened and the nursed called out his name. Tony rose from his seat and paused long enough to make sure that he had his legs under him. He slowly made his way towards the door with Gibbs in tow.

"I don't need a baby sitter," Tony mumbled under his breath.

"Didn't say you did," Gibbs replied. "I just want to hear what the doctor has to say."

Tony shrugged. "Suit yourself." He wondered how Gibbs expected to rebuild that trust between them when he wouldn't let him out of his sight. Of course, the last time Gibbs had left him alone for a few minutes, he had destroyed the man's boat. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't blame Gibbs for not trusting him; he didn't trust himself.

The nurse cleared her throat. "Actually, Dr. Cole wanted to see Mr. DiNozzo alone. He'll call you back a little later."

Tony breathed an inward sigh of relief as Gibbs returned to the waiting area. He was grateful that the older man didn't cause a scene; he didn't think his nerves would be able to handle another confrontation.

He obediently followed the nurse into the examination room and complied as she took his blood pressure and other vital signs. She jotted something down, but he couldn't make out exactly what she had written.

"You're blood pressure is a little high," she said.

"Just don't like doctor's offices."

"White coat syndrome?" she smiled.

"Something like that."

The nurse nodded and told him that Dr. Cole would be with him shortly. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants legs, wishing that he was anywhere but sitting in a cold examination room, waiting for a doctor who would be asking him a bunch of questions that he didn't want to answer. Tony swallowed nervously as he heard the doctor and the nurse talking softly just outside his door.

He startled as the door opened suddenly. Tony had been so intent on trying to hear the hushed conversation between Cole and his nurse, he had momentarily forgotten his surroundings. In the past, a mistake like that could have cost him his life. Cursing his complacency, he quickly tried to school his features in an attempt to hide his obvious weakness from the doctor.

The doctor extended his hand and Tony reluctantly shook it, hoping that the physician didn't pick up on the fact he was trembling. "How're you feeling, Tony?" Cole inquired.

"Okay," he lied.

"Really?"

Tony slumped his shoulders as he surrendered his pretense of being fine. Apparently, Gibbs wasn't the only one that could see right through his false bravado. He was going to have to rebuild those walls soon; the feeling of vulnerability was the one thing that he could not accept.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" the physician asked.

"Not particularly."

"How about if I just ask you a few questions?"

"I guess," Tony mumbled, silently wondering if he would even be able to answer them without revealing the fact that he was horrified at the thought of facing life as a sober man.

"We'll start with something simple," the doctor began. "Are you in any pain today?"

That question was easy enough. "My muscles are a little sore, but nothing I can't handle."

"Any dizziness or weakness?"

Another easy question; he was batting two for two. "A little," Tony admitted. "Still feel pretty tired."

"It's going to take time build your system back up. Are you taking your medicine?"

Tony nodded. "Gibbs is making sure of that."

"Good. Alcohol really plays havoc with your body and its ability to absorb the nutrients that you need," Cole explained. "You're on a pretty strict vitamin regimen to get you back where you need to be."

The young man sat there, allowing the doctor to fill up the silence with his speech about how Tony could never take another drink and the permanent effects that alcohol could have on a person, both mentally and physically. "I know that you've got a hard road ahead of you," Dr. Cole stated, "but you've got some friends who really want to help you."

"Yeah."

"You don't sound convinced of that," the doctor observed.

"I'm just tired. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Why not?"

"Strange bed." Tony knew that was a lame excuse. Someone who had been used to sleeping on benches and inside boxes should welcome the opportunity to sleep in a bed.

"I guess that makes sense. I have a hard time sleeping in strange beds as well, but I'm not sure that was the only reason that you couldn't sleep last night."

Tony stared straight ahead, refusing to meet the physician's concerned gaze. He fought the urge to bolt from the room; the need to escape was overwhelming. Gripping the table with his hands, he began to nervously chew on his lip, welcoming the taste of blood. He jumped when Dr. Cole gently squeezed his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Dr. Cole asked, his voice etched with concern.

"Are we done?" he shakily replied, purposefully ignoring the older man's question.

"For now," the doctor conceded. "I've got your first appointment with Dr. Walters set up for this afternoon at 3."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Dr. Walters?"

"He's the psychiatrist that you'll be seeing to…"

"A shrink?" he blurted out.

"He's very good and I think he'll be able to…"

"I don't need someone else inside my head," Tony snapped. "There's no more room."

"Dr. Walters is very good…"

"I don't give a damn how good he is! I'm not seeing him."

"Seeing Dr. Walters was part of the agreement of you being released from the hospital. Didn't Agent Gibbs mention that you would have sessions with a psychiatrist?"

"No."

"Tony, Dr. Walters is an expert in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; he will be able to help you get back on your feet," Dr. Cole tried to reason.

"I'm not seeing him," Tony forcibly repeated. He was surprised by the dangerous tone of his voice; it had been a long time since he had felt so empowered and he was savoring the moment.

He was glad that Dr. Cole decided not to continue badgering him about seeing the psychiatrist. Tony watched with interest as the physician wrote something in his chart and then closed the file. "I'll see you in the morning, Tony. Take it easy today."

Tony hopped off the table and headed back out to the waiting room. He glared at the team leader who was standing just outside the door, waiting his turn to speak with Dr. Cole. "I'm not going to go see a damn shrink," he growled. The young man walked over to the waiting area and fell into the seat beside Abby.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, he raked his hands through his hair. Abby rubbed his back as he forced himself to calm down. "Are you okay?" she wanted to know.

"Yes!" Tony paused, quickly reevaluating his answer. "No."

"How about we blow this popsicle stand?" she suggested.

"Don't we have to wait for Gibbs? He's got to talk to Cole."

"Nope. I told him that you would probably need to get some fresh air, so he gave me the keys. Palmer is on his way to pick up Gibbs."

Tony grinned as he rose from his seat. Abby laced her arm through his and together they walked down the corridor and out the door to the parking lot. Abby opened the door for him and waited until he was situated before buckling his seat belt for him. He rolled his eyes at the kid glove treatment, but managed to keep his comments to himself; Tony would never forgive himself if he hurt Abby's feelings.

She got in the driver's seat and started the car. "Are you ready?"

"For what?"

"To go get your tattoo!" she enthusiastically replied.

He nodded as his smile widened. "Let's do it."

Tony sat back and closed his eyes as Abby navigated the streets. He cherished the freedom that he now felt. In the hospital, he had been trapped; a feeling that he had become all too familiar with the past year. He couldn't remember how long he had been held captive, but even after he had been set free to roam the streets, Tony had become a hostage to the alcohol that fueled him day after day. Now, he was free, or at least he thought he was.

It wasn't long before the car stopped and Abby was gently shaking him, calling his name. He opened his eyes and realized that he must have allowed himself to doze off. "Sorry," he whispered as he unbuckled his seat belt.

"Don't you dare apologize," Abby insisted. "You need all the rest you can get."

He looked out the window at the tattoo parlor, nestled between a small diner and what appeared to be an adult bookstore. Tony glanced at Abby and then back to the shop. "This is it?"

"Yep. Best tattoo parlor on the east coast," she bragged. "Well, at least in D.C. The guy who's going to do your tattoo is the best; he's done all of mine. His name is Leo, you know after Leonardo DaVinci, the artist; he's really good."

"I'll take your word for it."

Tony found himself amazed at how easily he trusted Abby. He was completely at ease with the Goth and didn't feel as if he had to keep his guard up at all times like he did with Gibbs. The former Marine wanted his trust, but Tony was unable to give it completely.

Getting out of the car, he followed Abby into the tattoo parlor where they were greeted by a man who was surprisingly normal in appearance. Tony had been expecting someone dressed similar to the way Abby dressed, but this man looked like he could be on the front of those worn out romance novels that Megan was always reading.

"Good to meet you Tony," Leo said. "Abby's told me a lot about you over the years. I must admit that I never thought that you'd willingly set foot in a tattoo parlor; I always thought you didn't like tattoos."

Confused, he glanced at Abby, who simply shrugged and said, "Long story. I'll explain it to you later."

He surmised that whatever she had to tell him must have to do with his past life as Anthony DiNozzo; it was just another memory that no longer belonged to him.

"So, have you decided what you're going to go with?" Leo asked.

"Yep," Abby interjected as she pulled out her phone and showed her friend the picture of the tattoo that he had decided on earlier that day.

"The phoenix."

Tony nodded. "Rising from the ashes," he added. He laughed to himself, amazed that he could remember the story of the phoenix rising from the ashes and he could barely remember his own name.

He had been drawn to the image from the first time he had seen it; never had he realized until now, how the story of the phoenix paralleled his own life. Just a couple of weeks ago, he hadn't existed and now he had risen from the dead to reclaim a life that he knew nothing about.

A reluctant smile escaped from his lips as Abby gently squeezed his arm. "Are you sure ready for this?" she asked again.

Tony grinned, realizing that for the first time in a long time, he felt in control of his life. It was a feeling that he could get use to if he could ever figure out who the hell he was. He looked at Abby and then at Leo, his smile now reaching his eyes. "I was born ready."


	25. Chapter 25

**On a roll…do you think we'll get three stories updated this week? Thank you all for your patience and continued support. I'm so overwhelmed by the reviews and the personal notes…I'm very blessed to have such loyal readers. I hope you enjoy the post!**

"Oh my gosh, Tony!" Abby excitedly exclaimed. "It's so totally awesome! It's more than awesome; it's…it's spectacular!"

She stood behind Tony, admiring the masterpiece that was now boldly displayed on his left shoulder blade. Abby had watched with fascination as Leo created the likeness of the phoenix, transforming it into something almost surreal; it was as if art was coming to life. When Tony had made the decision to get the phoenix, she sensed immediately that the tattoo was so much more than a picture to him; it was a representation of his life. It was a symbol of survival and that is exactly what Tony had managed to do not only this past year, but throughout his life.

"Do you really think so?" Tony asked, the uncertainty he was obviously feeling was evident in his voice.

"Are you kidding me? It's incredible! It's so you! I don't know why you never wanted one before…"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized that she had unintentionally brought up the past. She usually tried to avoid mentioning his former life so he wouldn't feel pressured to remember, but she had let her guard down. Clamping her hand over her dark lips, Abby allowed a muffled apology to escape. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

Tony pulled her hand away from her mouth and gave it a gentle squeeze. Abby could see the fine lines of exhaustion around his eyes, the anger and distrust that usually emanated from his expressive orbs was no longer present. "It's okay, Abby," he reassured her. "It's okay."

"I guess I just wasn't thinking about you not being able to remember."

Abby's heart melted as Tony's grin widened, almost reaching his eyes. This was the same smile that lured women and unnerved suspects; this was the smile that appeared when he discovered the one clue that solved a particular case, and this was the smile that always brightened her day.

"It's nice when people forget that I can't remember," he said. "It means that for a little while, I can be myself."

She kissed him on the cheek, leaving an imprint of her lips on his still gaunt face. "You can always be yourself when you're with me. That's always the way it's been with us. What you see is what you get; take it or leave it."

"I'll take it."

"So will I."

The Goth handed Tony his shirt and then proceeded to pay Leo. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment. "Something wrong?" she inquired, afraid that he had changed his mind about the tattoo.

"I didn't expect you to pay for it. I didn't even think about…"

"This is your birthday present," she proclaimed.

"My birthday present?"

"Yeah. I didn't get you one last year, so I'm making up for it."

"I'll pay you back whenever I get some money," Tony vowed.

"You will not! I told you that this is your present. It's okay to accept gifts from your friends."

"If you say so," he replied unconvincingly.

"I say so."

"Thank you," he whispered.

It truly bothered her that Tony was so uncomfortable accepting gifts or kind gestures from people. Even before he had disappeared, DiNozzo would be flustered for days if someone went out of their way and did something special for him. Maybe one day, he would see the acts of kindness for what they were and not as a way to get something from him.

Abby sighed and finished paying Leo. "I think it's your best work yet," she told the owner.

"It suits him," Leo agreed, handing Abby her change. He gave Tony a piece of paper explaining that he was giving him instructions on how to care for his tattoo.

She watched as Tony studied the paper before slipping it into his pocket. "Don't worry," Abby cheerfully said. "I'll help you."

"I think you just want to see me without my shirt again," Tony teased.

Abby threw her arms around Tony's neck. She felt his body tense from the unexpected physical contact and quickly released him. "I'm sorry," she apologized once again. "It's just that when you said that about me wanting to see you without your shirt, it was just so…Tonyish."

"And that's good?"

"Yes! Of course it is! It was so natural. I mean it was something you did without knowing that it was something that you would've done before you disappeared, and now that you've reappeared…"

She stopped mid-sentence when Tony raised his hand, instantly silencing her propensity to ramble. "I think I get the picture. There wasn't any pressure, so a piece of…Tony just escaped from my screwed up mind."

"Exactly," she declared, grateful that he understood what she was trying to say.

Glancing at her watch, she grabbed Tony by the hand and led him out of the parlor and towards the car. "We better get going before Gibbs puts out a bolo on us. I can't wait for him to see your tattoo!"

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

"He'll be ecstatic."

"I've seen him pissed, kind of happy, frustrated, sad, and grumpy," he recalled. "I don't think I've ever seen him…ecstatic."

"Neither have I. But, there's a first time for everything."

Abby opened Tony's door and then went around to the driver's side. As she got in the car, she noticed that Tony was still standing in the door, his gaze riveted on something that she could not see. "Tony?" she called out. She opened the door and stepped back out onto the pavement, her eyes searching for what had him entranced.

Unable to see anything, Abby made her way to his side. "Tony? What is it?"

She placed her hand on his arm and could feel him trembling. "Tony? Please tell me what's wrong?"

The Goth began to panic. Tony seemed to be locked in a battle somewhere in the depths of his mind. Now matter how hard she tried, she couldn't reach him; he simply continued to ignore her, staring straight ahead. She dumped the contents of her purse out onto the passenger's seat and began to fumble through her belongings until she found what was she was looking for.

Retrieving her phone, she stood up to see Tony heading for an alleyway across the street. Her eyes widened in fear as he ignored the blaring horns of the cars that had to slam on their brakes to avoid hitting him. She tried to scream out a warning, but all she could do was hold her breath until he was safely on the other side.

Finally, she found her voice and called out to him in desperation. "Tony! What are you doing?"

Her question was met with silence. Glancing up and down the street, she quickly prayed for an opening so she could catch up to her friend. At that particular moment, the street was clear and so she darted across. Tony was standing at the entranceway to an alley. The buildings on either side were both condemned and the sight of rats scampering about made her stomach churn. Tony didn't like rats either, but at the moment, she wasn't sure that he was seeing them.

"Tony?" she whispered. "What's wrong?"

"I've…been here before," he stammered.

"What do you mean?" she anxiously inquired. "Do you remember something?"

She grabbed Tony's arm as he lurched forward, suddenly unable to stay upright. He pulled away and collapsed against the wall, his eyes still fixated on the darkness in front of him. Abby helplessly watched as he raked his hands through his hair, sliding down the wall until he was on the ground. "Feel sick," he muttered under his breath."

Kneeling down beside him, she began to rub his back with one hand while dialing Gibbs' number with the other. She was thankful that she had put his number on speed dial a long time ago. He barely had time to answer before she cried out, "Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! Something's wrong. I need you to come down here. Something's wrong with Tony!"

"Abby!" he snapped. His tone was a little harsher than she was used to, but she knew that he meant nothing by it. "Tell me what happened."

Quickly relaying the events of the day, she told him about how everything had been going so well and how it ended up with them sitting in an alleyway. "He says he feels sick," Abby continued. "Something's wrong, Gibbs. He's shaking; he barely responds to me."

"Where are you?"

Abby gave him the address and knew that he would be here within a few minutes. She sat down beside Tony on the ground and continued to rub his back. "It's going to be okay, Tony," she softly repeated over and over. "Gibbs is on his way. He'll know what to do."

"I remember this place," he said, his voice almost inaudible. "I remember…"

"What do you remember?" she pressed. Abby wasn't sure that she was doing the right thing by encouraging him to open up to her, but she also knew that Tony felt more comfortable with her than with any of the others.

"They brought me down this alley."

"Who?"

"I couldn't stand," Tony continued, ignoring her question. "They drug me down this alley."

"Tony? Can you tell me who it was? Can you see their faces?"

Tony suddenly began to retch. She supported him as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Abby wrinkled her nose at the foul stench, but said nothing. After he was spent, he fell over on his side, his head on her lap. Abby wished that he would let her move him somewhere cleaner, but she didn't dare ask him; she would make no demands on him for now. She would let him rest until Gibbs arrived. Then maybe together, they could help Tony find the missing piece of this particular puzzle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The drummers residing in the team leader's head were now pounding in unison, each beat louder and more intense than the last. The events of the past few hours had finally caught up to him resulting in the migraine that was now plaguing him mercilessly. He had even allowed Palmer to drive him home, which was something that would have never occurred had he not felt as if his head were going to explode.

"Agent Gibbs?" Palmer nervously called to him.

"What?"

"I can stop and get you something if you need me too," the young man offered.

"Just take me home, Palmer. Abby and Tony should be there by now."

Abby had whisked Tony out of the doctor's office and to the tattoo parlor; he hadn't heard from them since. He hoped that everything was all right. His gut had been telling him otherwise for the past half hour, but he trusted Abby to take care of DiNozzo.

They had left him to talk with Dr. Cole and by the time their conversation was finished, Gibbs left frustrated and uncertain what he should do. There was no doubt in his mind that Tony needed help, but getting him to agree to it was an issue he wasn't sure that he was ready to tackle.

_***flashback***_

_Gibbs was starting to get a headache from going round after round with Dr. Cole. The team leader was completely aware of the fact that Tony needed professional counseling to help him learn how to deal with what had happened the past year, but the physician didn't seem to understand that DiNozzo wasn't the kind of man that you could just order to see a psychiatrist. Tony ate shrinks for breakfast. He had always been able to tell the doctors exactly what they wanted to hear so they would release him for duty and he had a feeling that this 'new' Tony could play the system as well. _

"_Dr. Walters is very respected in his field," the doctor informed him. "I'm sure he will be able to help Agent DiNozzo."_

"_I'm sure that he's as wonderful as you say, but that's not the point," Gibbs shot back. "The point is that you're not going to get DiNozzo to willingly open up to anybody until he's ready."_

"_That's the old DiNozzo."_

"_Maybe," he agreed. "But I still doubt that he's going to allow a total stranger to get into his mind. He barely talks to me. What makes you think that he's going to open up to someone he doesn't know?"_

"_Because he needs someone to be objective in this situation!" Cole tersely replied. "You and his other friends are so wrapped up in getting him back the way he used to be, that you have no idea what's truly going on inside of his mind. Whether he realizes it or not, Tony is trying to be what you all want him to be; he wants to belong and if he has to sacrifice his soul in order to achieve that sense of being wanted, then he's prepared to do it."_

"_Just give him a few more days. He needs time to warm up to the idea. He's dealing with a lot," the ex-Marine stated. _

"_I'm aware of that, but I'm afraid that the way he deals with his problems is not conducive to his health. Do you know how easy it would be for him to start drinking again?"_

_Gibbs clenched his jaw. "Yes."_

"_He's got to get those safeguards in place before he falls off the wagon."_

"_I'm aware of that."_

"_Then…"_

_Gibbs pushed himself up out of his seat. "Then what? What do you want from me? I'm doing all I can for him, but I can't make him see a shrink."_

"_He would if you told him to. Despite what it seems like, he does respect you."_

"_And you want me to use that against him?" Gibbs asked, his voice tight and controlled. "Do you know how long it has taken to get this far with him? He may respect me but he sure as hell doesn't trust me. Last night he literally destroyed my boat because he thought I had betrayed him; I'm not going to put him through that again!" _

_Cole stared at him in disbelief. "He destroyed your boat?"_

"_He had some kind of flash back; his captors had led him to believe that I was too busy building my boat to come and look for him."_

"_Until he gets his memory back, these flashbacks may occur more often and I don't have to tell you that he may lash out and hurt someone, including himself. I never should have agreed to his release."_

"_He would have left without your consent," Gibbs reminded him. _

"_Gibbs, you've got to make him see he needs counseling."_

"_I've found an AA meeting for him to attend tonight; let me see how that goes."_

"_You'll let me know something tomorrow?"_

"_Yeah," Gibbs sighed. "Tomorrow."_

_***end flashback***_

He wasn't looking forward to tomorrow. Hopefully the AA meeting tonight would find Tony willing to open up, but somehow, he knew that it was going to take more than one meeting for DiNozzo to admit to needing any kind of help. As far as he knew, Tony had never even claimed to be an alcoholic. He would call himself a drunk or some other name, but he never acknowledged that he had a problem.

The sound of his phone ringing echoed inside his head. "Gibbs," he gruffly answered.

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!"

It was Abby and she was clearly upset about something.

"Abby! Tell me what happened!" His voice was a bit more brusque than usual, but he knew Abby would understand.

He sat up straighter and listened as she frantically explained everything that had happened since they had left the hospital. Gibbs muttered a curse under his breath; he should have listened to his gut.

"Where are you?" he demanded to know.

He hung up the phone and gave Palmer directions to the address that Abby had given him. "Step on it, Palmer!" he barked.

"But Agent Gibbs, the speed limit…"

"Is irrelevant!" the team leader growled. "Now either give it some gas or pull over and let me drive."

Gibbs managed to suppress a grin as he felt the sudden acceleration of the car. Obviously the thought of him driving was enough to spur the ME's assistant to action. Although his head was still throbbing, he managed to ignore it as he considered what Abby had told him. Tony had been fine until they had started to leave. Was he having a flashback? The doctor's words came back to haunt him and he found himself praying that both Abby and Tony were all right.


	26. Chapter 26

**I wanted to get this post last week, but I ended up taking a few days off for my birthday! So thanks for your patience and I hope this is worth the wait. Again, my deepest thanks for your continued support and encouragement.**

Jimmy Palmer was amazed that there wasn't an entourage of police cars behind him as he hurriedly navigated the streets of Washington D.C. He was trying to ignore the fact that with every red light that he had run, images of his life would seemingly flash before his eyes. Truthfully, he was used to driving under strenuous conditions, especially when Dr. Mallard was reading the map, but with Gibbs barking orders every few minutes, his nerves were quickly becoming frazzled.

As he rounded the final corner, his thoughts turned to his hurting friend. His friend ship with Anthony DiNozzo was a mystery that would more than likely remained unsolved. When Gibbs had taken his unexpected hiatus to Mexico and Tony had been thrust into the role of team leader, he had become DiNozzo's confidante and sounding board. Their casual friendship had quickly developed from that point on, providing each of them with a friend that simply accepted each other at face value.

When Tony had disappeared, Palmer had been at a loss how to handle the supposed demise of his friend. Part of him had refused to accept that Tony was dead and he had silently clung to that hope. Now, a year later, DiNozzo had returned from the grave and was struggling to remember his past life.

Jimmy couldn't imagine being faced with such a daunting task and he truly respected his friend for choosing to handle his problems instead of running away from them. Guilt consumed him as he realized that aside from the brief time in autopsy, he had not taken the opportunity to talk with Tony at all. In fact, Jimmy had been avoiding Tony and although it may not have been intentional, the fact remained that he had failed as a friend.

"Palmer!"

He was startled from his private musing by the taciturn team leader. Jimmy slammed on the brakes, and reluctantly met Gibbs' hardened gaze. "Uh, sorry…Agent Gibbs," he stammered. "You um…you kind of …surprised me when you yelled."

"We're here," Gibbs gruffly announced.

Palmer glanced around, quickly taking in his surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tony. He was determined to help his friend, hoping that it wasn't too late for him to reach out a helping hand.

He got out of the car and started to follow Gibbs across the street. Desperate to reach Tony, it didn't cross his mind to move the car. Palmer didn't get very far before Gibbs turned around and glared at him. "Did you forget something, Palmer?" the ex-Marine impatiently inquired.

Jimmy's cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment as he rushed back and quickly maneuvered the car into the first available parking space. He darted back across the street, coming to an abrupt halt beside Abby. Palmer nodded a muted greeting to her and then turned his attention back to the scene unfolding in front of him.

Tony was sitting against the wall, his eyes clenched tightly as if by doing so would simply block out whatever he was seeing in his mind's eye. His knees were pulled up against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around them. Every few seconds, Tony would tremble as if he were cold, but Jimmy knew that his tremors were more than likely being caused by the memories that were assaulting him.

He watched as Gibbs knelt down in front of Tony and softly called his name. It was not often that people had the privilege of seeing the gentler side of the ex-Marine; everyone knew he had a special way with children, but rarely did he have such patience and compassion with adults. There was no doubt that DiNozzo held a special place in Gibbs' heart.

Tony had told Palmer several times, mostly under the influence of a few beers, that Gibbs was more of a father to him than his own. He knew that his friend's relationship with his father was strained and the team leader had stepped in to fill that void. Now, Gibbs was trying to soothe his son's obvious heartache, and Palmer could only hope that the team leader would be able to reach DiNozzo.

Palmer had been keeping his distance from Tony, but that was about to change. True friends stuck by each other through the good times and the bad times and that was what he was determined to do.

"What's happened?" he quietly asked Abby, whose gaze was fixated on the nearly inaudible conversation taking place between Tony and Gibbs.

"I don't know," she answered. "We were leaving the tattoo parlor and headed back to the car and Tony just got this real far away look in his eyes. He kept tell me that he remembered and then everything just kind of fell apart. Oh my God, he's got to be all right."

"I'm sure he'll be all right," Palmer tried to reassure her.

"Gibbs will help him," she declared. "He _has_ to help him."

Palmer simply nodded. "He will."

"He better."

Jimmy knew without a doubt that if anyone could get through to Tony, it was Agent Gibbs. He just hoped that he got the chance to be that friend that he should have been along.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony desperately wanted a drink. If he could drink, he could forget; if he could forget, he wouldn't have to face the haunting images that were invading his mind. He could remember the hands of his captors dragging him as he struggled to escape from their bone crushing hold, but his feeble attempts to escape were met with insults and laughter. The past and present continued to clash as Tony fought to make sense of the slide show playing in his head. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move; he wanted to cry, but there were no tears.

The only thing that was a constant at the moment was the voice that was calling to him through the fog of his jumbled memories. He knew that voice. Tony had fallen asleep many nights, hoping to hear that particular voice assure him that everything was going to be all right. He had lost count of the times he had prayed that Leroy Jethro Gibbs would come and save him. The loneliness and agony would prevent him from moving as he would be forced to lay on the ground in his own filth, waiting for someone to come. But no one ever came. Soon, his despair had prevented him from hearing the former Marine's voice in his mind; he had allowed it to fade from his memory until today.

He felt calloused hands cup his face; the eyes that were staring at him were achingly familiar. Could he dare to hope that Gibbs had actually come for him after all this time? As he met the iron gaze of the team leader, he wondered if this was another dream or if Gibbs was really here with him. The darkness began to fade as his surroundings came into focus. As his reality became clearer, his humiliation at the realization that he was sitting on the ground in an alley, a pile of his own vomit mere feet away, was almost more than he could bear.

Licking his lips, he gave a slight nod, silently indicating that he was all right. As Gibbs released his face, he laid his head back against the cement wall and closed his eyes. He had just made a complete fool of himself, not only in front of Gibbs, but in front of Abby as well; they probably thought that he had completely lost his mind and they would be right.

"Tony?" Gibbs called out to him. "You okay?"

How was he supposed to answer that? No, he wasn't okay, but his instinct was to try and assure everyone that he was fine. Not trusting his voice to speak, he nodded, hoping that the answer would satisfy the older man.

Obviously, Gibbs was not so easily fooled. "You sure about that, DiNozzo?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

"If I wasn't worried about you throwing up on my shoes, I'd head slap you for lying," the ex-Marine growled.

"Just give me a minute," Tony pleaded, his weary gaze once again focusing on the man before him.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. The last thing I remember is coming out of the tattoo parlor," he admitted. "How did I get here?

"In Abby's words, you kind of freaked out. Now, why don't you try this again?" Gibbs suggested, unwilling to permit Tony to take the easy way out.

Tony didn't miss the mixture of concern and annoyance in the team leader's voice. He knew that Gibbs was worried about him, but he still wasn't sure what he had ever done to deserve this man's loyalty. The former Marine had been patient with him, not pushing the trust issues that Tony seemed doomed to carry with him for a long time.

He stared down the alley; his body involuntarily shuddered as the evil shadows threatened to overwhelm him. "They took me down this alley," he began, his voice barely audible.

"Who?"

"I don't know. I'm pretty sure that Steve was one of them, but I don't know the other one."

"What did he look like?"

"It was dark and I couldn't see their faces."

"Where you blindfolded?" Gibbs asked.

Tony thought for a moment as he tried to isolate that particular memory. He finally shook his head. "No. My eyes…I could barely open them. It hurt to open them."

"So they were swollen shut," the team leader deduced.

"I think…I fought them. I'm not sure."

Gibbs gently squeezed his shoulders. "It's okay. What else do you remember?"

He shrugged. Tony really didn't want to remember the pain and shame that he had endured, but fate seemed to be forcing his hand. "I don't know."

"Do you think you can stand?" Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded and accepted the team leader's hand as Gibbs helped him to his feet. He staggered as a wave of dizziness besieged him, but he managed to steady himself with the help of the former Marine and Abby, who had quickly rushed to his side. After a few seconds, he nodded his thanks as he managed to stand on his own. "Thanks."

"Anything for you," Abby chimed in.

"Thanks, Abs," he tiredly grinned.

"You up for a walk, Tony?" the lead agent inquired, gesturing towards the alley.

He stared into the dark void before him, uncertain if he could walk this path again. "I don't think so," Tony softly replied.

"I'm going to be right here with you, Tony," Gibbs reassured him. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"Please don't make me do this," he begged.

"Tony, if there's a possibility that we can discover what happened to you, then we need to explore it and see if we can piece together this puzzle."

"Please, Gibbs."

"I'm right here by your side. You're not doing this alone."

"That's right," Abby agreed. "Palmer and I are here too."

"Palmer?"

Upon hearing his name, a young man joined the tight circle. Tony immediately recognized him as Ducky's assistant. He could barely remember talking to him when he had first arrived at NCIS and now he was standing here, an expression of concern etched in his youthful features. Several images flashed through his mind as he stared at Palmer. "The gremlin," he finally muttered.

"You remember me?" Palmer asked, barely able to contain his delight.

"Black lung."

Palmer grinned. "You do remember!"

Tony tiredly returned his smile. "A little. Sorry. I wish I could do better. I don't remember why I even called you 'Black Lung.'"

"Don't worry about it. I'll fill you in later."

"You can fill me in later as well," Gibbs added. "Sounds like an interesting story."

Tony turned to look down the alley once again. Laughter echoed in his head, exacerbating the headache that had quickly developed in the last few minutes. Did Gibbs have any idea what he was asking him to do? He took a tentative step and then another one, the presence of Gibbs and the others giving him the courage that he so desperately needed to delve into the mystery of his past.

As he continued his trek down the darkened alley, Tony fought the churning in his stomach as the smells brutally attacked his senses. He stopped at the top of a stairwell leading to the basement of a condemned building. Gripping the rusty handrail, he silently willed his hands to stop shaking. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's just me, Tony," Gibbs said. "What's wrong?"

"I fell…no, I was pushed down these stairs. I think." He swallowed hard, trying to control the visions that were once again dancing around in his mind.

He watched as Gibbs pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and began to closely examine the steps. Tony knew that he was more than likely looking for a clue that he had been here, but between the passage of time and the weather, the team leader would be hard pressed to find anything useful.

Tony slowly descended the stairs, his eyes fixed on the door. Slowly reaching towards the handle, his hand trembled as he traced the splintered wood where the door had been forced open.

"Tony?" Gibbs called out. "What is it?"

Shaking his head, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside. The only light illuminating the room came from a single window in the wall. There was nothing in this room, but Tony already knew that. This wasn't the room that he had been held prisoner in, but he knew he wasn't far away. He could feel Gibbs' eyes on him as he walked around the room, studying every detail in hopes that something would seem familiar.

"DiNozzo?"

"I don't know, Gibbs," he finally answered. "I've been here, but…something's not right."

"Look at this!" Abby exclaimed.

Tony and Gibbs joined her and Palmer as the Goth pointed to what appeared to be a door in the floor. His head felt like it was going to explode. Sinking to his knees, he held his head in his hands as his memories began to freely flow. No one could ever know what was behind that door. "God, no!" he began to cry. "No!"

He felt someone kneeling on either side of him. Abby and Palmer surrounded him, confused and upset by his apparent breakdown. Gibbs knelt down in front of him and grabbed his hands. "Talk to me, Tony."

"This is it!" Tony sobbed. "This is where…they…had me. I…the door…I used to try and pound on the bottom of the door…but no one…heard me."

"I need to have a look, Tony."

Horrified at the thought, Tony began to shake his head in protest. "No, Gibbs! Please don't!"

"Tony, if it's going to help you…"

"It's not going to help anything! Believe me! You open that door and you're going to hate me!" he screamed.

"No, I'm not," Gibbs vowed.

"Yes, you will. Please don't do this."

"Tony, I have to do this," the team leader tried to rationalize. "If we're going to find out what happened to you during the time you were missing…"

Tony pushed himself off the floor and wiped away his tears. "I don't want to remember what happened to me! Please! Let's just leave!"

"If we leave now, I'll just come back by myself later."

"Don't do that. God, Gibbs, I'll do anything. I'll go see that shrink if that's what it takes, but please don't go down there!"

"What's down there that you don't want me to see?" Gibbs wanted to know. "Tony, I know they hurt you and…"

"You don't know anything!" he roared. "You have no idea what its like to have to live in your own vomit and crap, hoping that for one night, the rats will leave you the hell alone! Everyday, they came and every day they left me, crying like a baby because I couldn't take the pain that they were putting me through! After they left, I'd pull myself off the floor and over to the door and pounded on it until my hands bled, but no one ever heard me. I couldn't take it any more. I…"

Tony abruptly stopped his tirade and walked over to the door that led outside. He was too tired to fight this battle. Maybe it was time for the truth to be made known. "Do what you have to do, but don't say I didn't warn you."

He sat down on the steps and waited for the inevitable. Tony had no idea how long it was before Gibbs came outside, but no amount of time could prepare him for what he knew was about to happen. He glanced up when he heard the trio approaching. Their eyes betrayed a myriad of emotions; confusion, surprise, pity, and uncertainty were just a few that he could see. They knew. They knew everything and now there was no turning back. Gibbs sat down next to him and he had to quell the desire to run away from this man.

"Who is he, Tony?" Gibbs quietly asked. "Who's the man in the basement?"

Tony closed his eyes. How could this nightmare get any worse? Why couldn't he simply wake up and pick up his life where he left off? "I warned you not to go in there."

"Who was it?" Gibbs repeated, a little more forcibly.

He clenched his jaw. "I didn't have a choice. I couldn't take it any more."

"Tony, I'm not blaming you. I just need to know who it is."

He laughed to himself as he pushed away the agonizing memories that threatened to consume him. "I had to do it, Gibbs. I couldn't take it! I just wanted it to end!"

"Tony, look at me," Gibbs gently ordered. "Tell me who that man is."

Unable to refuse the team leader's request, Tony met his gaze, shame raging through him like an ocean during a storm. "That's my old friend, Steve."

"Steve? He's one of the ones that hurt you," the ex-Marine stated.

Tony nodded. "Yeah…he was the main one. I never saw the other one; I just heard him."

"What happened to Steve?"

He sat for a moment, mentally cursing the fact that his memories had picked this time to resurface. Tony wanted to be angry; angry at Abby for calling Gibbs, angry at Palmer for simply being here, and angry at Gibbs for his persistence to raise Tony DiNozzo from the dead. But, all he felt was numb. How can you show remorse that you don't feel?

Tony raked his hands through his hair in an effort to stall in answering Gibbs' question. Unfortunately, he knew that the team leader would simply wait him out. He stood up and turned to walk back up the stairs, not wanting to see Gibbs' face when he had to deliver the ultimate blow. Pausing at the top of the stairwell, he gripped the hand rail and forced his confession from his lips. "I killed him."


	27. Chapter 27

**Back to regular updates! Thank you all for sticking with me and with this story! Since finishing A Cry for Help, I'm working on getting the remaining stories updated this week and then perhaps starting another one. Thank you all for your continued supports and I hope this installment has been worth the wait! I can't begin to tell you all how much I truly appreciate your support and encouragement. **

"I killed him."

Those words echoed in the mind of Leroy Jethro Gibbs as he watched the young man who had uttered them struggle to hold on to his warring emotions. He could see the pained expression on Tony's face as he fought the demons that plagued him, wanting to claim yet another piece of his soul. Pushing past Palmer and Abby, he bounded up the stairs and planted himself in front of DiNozzo, his own piercing gaze searching Tony's haunted eyes in hopes that he had misspoken out of uncertainty and desperation.

It wasn't that Gibbs could blame Tony for killing his tormentor, but the realization that DiNozzo was driven to kill a man with his own hands spoke volumes of the sheer torture that Tony endured during his captivity. He wondered that when all of the agent's memories returned, if DiNozzo could live with himself and the knowledge that he had taken a life out of anger and for the purpose of revenge.

He reached out and took Tony by the arm and guided him to a nearby bench. Gibbs signed to Abby to take Palmer and leave so that he and DiNozzo could talk. The team leader was grateful that the Goth didn't protest and with Jimmy in tow, she only stopped long enough to place a kiss on the top of Tony's head.

"Hey, Abs," he called out.

She looked back over her shoulder, her dark eyes betraying both disbelief and sympathy for her friend.

"Not a word," Gibbs said. "Let me handle it."

Abby nodded and she and Palmer crossed the street to her car. Gibbs sighed as he watched them merge with the traffic. Once again, the former Marine found himself unsure of what his next step should be. The investigator part of him needed to know what happened, but the father side of him wanted to spare his child any more pain.

He tentatively put his arm around his agent's shoulder, pulling back when Tony visibly flinched. Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose as DiNozzo cradled his head in his hands. It almost felt like they were back to square one, reminiscent of the day that he had discovered that Tony was alive. Neither man knew what to say or what to do; he hated feeling so helpless and his uncertainty was not helping DiNozzo.

Gibbs clasped his hands on his lap and licked his lips. They couldn't simply ignore this latest development; he and Tony had been making strides in their relationship and the team leader was not going to let the ghost of a dead man come between them.

"You want to tell me what happened?" he finally managed to ask.

Tony shook his head. "Not really."

Allowing a small grin to escape, he realized that some things were never going to change. If Anthony DiNozzo didn't want to talk about something, he wasn't going to and no one could persuade him to do otherwise. Before his disappearance, Tony had led many people to believe that his life was an open book, but Gibbs knew better. DiNozzo could put on a show for his coworkers worthy of an Oscar, but the lead agent had always managed to see right through his charade. Usually over a couple of beers or a steak dinner, he could get Tony to open up to him, but right now, it was going to take more than a thick steak to even begin to uncover the depths of torment that DiNozzo had experienced.

"I need to know what happened, Tony," Gibbs attempted to reason.

"I already told you what happened. I killed him."

Although Tony's voice was barely above a whisper, there was no mistaking the deliberate coolness in his tone. There was no remorse for taking this man's life, but that was something that Gibbs could not fault him for; he had walked this road before and he knew how it felt to be driven to the point of no return.

"Talk to me, Tony," he pleaded. "Tell me how it happened."

Tony sat up but continued to stare at his trembling hands. "I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take the darkness, the pain, the humiliation; I just couldn't take it."

"I understand that Tony. I'm not condemning you for killing him. I would have done the same thing."

"Would you?"

"Yes."

"How do you know? You weren't the one who had to play his games; you weren't the one who…"

Gibbs silently cursed when Tony abruptly stopped his tirade. "What, Tony?" he pressed.

His question was met with silence. He reached out and placed his hand on top of Tony's in an effort to still the tremors that were consuming him. "Tony? Talk to me."

DiNozzo refused to look at him. "Tony, I'm not mad at you for killing him. I understand why you had to do it; I just want to know…"

"He got careless." Tony's jaw clenched as pulled his hands free of the lead agent's grasp. "He turned his back on me for a split second and I took the chains that he kept me bound with and threw them around his neck and choked him. I remember that I was so weak, I didn't know if I could hold on to him long enough to get him down, but I did. I guess the old adrenaline kicked in; either that or fear."

The older man patiently waited for Tony to continue. Gibbs knew he was asking DiNozzo to relive a nightmare that he simply wanted to bury, but circumstances had demanded that the truth be made known.

"I wanted to make sure he was dead," Tony rasped. "I took the very knife that he used on me and I…"

Gibbs closed his eyes as he pictured Tony standing over his captor, wielding the knife that had inflicted such physical agony on his son. He had seen the scars and there was very little left to the imagination as the ex-Marine realized the pain that DiNozzo had been subjected to. "You what?" he urged.

"I stabbed him," DiNozzo admitted. "Over and over until I was sure that he was dead. I couldn't stop; even though he wasn't screaming, I could hear him in my mind telling me that I better make sure he was dead or...I'd live to regret it. I had to shut him up so I slit his throat. Then when I stopped hearing his voice, I stopped. I threw the knife in a barrel that was sitting by the door and I ran. I didn't get very far. I was so tired and it was raining. I sat on the steps and just let the rain wash away the blood."

"Nobody saw you and offered to help?"

A tired smile escaped his lips. "I don't guess so. I don't really remember anything until he came."

"Who came?"

Gibbs saw a trickle of blood streaming from his lip as Tony bit through the tender flesh. "I never saw his face," Tony answered. "He was the one who always stayed hidden in the shadows when Steve was…all I could hear was his voice. I froze and the next thing I know, I'm lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell. He drug me back inside and was screaming at me. I was so scared; he kept telling me that he didn't really need me anymore and that I had already told him everything he needed to know. He kept saying that I could never go back and I guess he was right. I knew that I was going to die right then and there. I just didn't have any fight left in me."

Tony wiped the blood off his chin. "When he went down in the cellar to check on Steve, I locked him in there and made myself get up and I started running."

"Then what happened?"

"I got as far away as I could and started drinking," he solemnly declared. "It helped me to forget."

Gibbs felt a twinge of hope spark inside of him. The fact that Tony remembered when and why he started drinking was a good start to what would still be a long road to travel. "What were you trying to forget?"

"What they did to me. What I did."

"How long were you out on the streets before Megan and Olivia found you?"

The young man shook his head. "I don't know."

"What happened to the man that you locked in the cellar?"

"I don't know that either, but he's still alive. I heard his voice once at the shelter and I knew I couldn't stay there, but at the same time, I couldn't go far away; I was worried about Megan and Olivia."

The team leader recalled Megan telling him that Tony didn't stay at the shelter very often but was always close by. "Do you think you could identify him from his voice?"

"Probably. I still hear it in my sleep sometimes."

Gibbs knew all too well about Tony's aversion to sleeping, but truthfully, the team leader didn't blame him. The nightmares were still all too real for Tony; it would be a long time before the memory of his captivity became a distant thought.

"Why don't we get back to the house?" Gibbs suggested, sensing that Tony had reached his limits. "We've got a basement to finish cleaning up."

Tony nodded. "Might as well."

He saw DiNozzo look back towards the stairwell that led to the resting place of his tormentor. "What are you going to do about Steve's body?" Tony inquired.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything," Gibbs vowed.

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about it," the agent repeated. "Trust me on this."

"Am I going to prison for killing him?"

Gibbs adamantly shook his head. "No. You're not going to prison. You don't deserve to go to prison."

"You're probably wrong there, but I don't have the energy to argue with you."

He grinned at his charge. "Getting that tattoo wear you out?"

Tony managed to return his smile. "Guess so."

"So, what did you decide on?"

"A phoenix."

Gibbs nodded his approval. Although, he would have never believed that Tony would have subjected himself to getting a tattoo, the young man had indeed chosen a most appropriate symbol. For a year, he had believed Tony to be dead and he had miraculously risen out of the ashes to reclaim what he had lost.

"Want to see it?" Tony asked.

"Sure."

Tony lifted his shirt to reveal the tattoo of the phoenix nestled in the midst of scars, both old and some more recent. Rising out of the ashes to become stronger and more powerful than before, Gibbs knew that when all was said and done, Tony would indeed be stronger and after months of uncertainty, DiNozzo would resume his place not only as his senior field agent but as the son of his heart.

"It suits you, DiNozzo."

"Thanks, Boss," he replied.

The two men walked in silence towards the car, words seemingly unnecessary as for the first time since his resurrection, Tony seemed at ease. Gibbs allowed his mind to drift back to that cellar and its contents, namely the dead man, whose remains had obviously been a feast for the vermin that more than likely had taken up residence in that oppressive place. He needed to go back; maybe he could come to a better understanding of what Tony had endured during his captivity. DiNozzo had managed to reveal a lot in the last few minutes, but there were still a lot of questions left unanswered.

When he heard the click of Tony's seatbelt, Gibbs started the engine and sped off towards his home. It wasn't long before he heard DiNozzo snoring softly, his head lolling against the head rest. He didn't dare wake the sleeping man; Tony's recovery was not only going to be an emotional matter, but a physical one as well.

The silence gave him time to contemplate what his next move would be. Gibbs knew that more than likely Abby, and possibly Palmer, would be waiting for them when they arrived at his house. If that were the case, then Tony would be in good hands and he could do what he needed to do.

As he turned down his street, he saw Abby and Palmer sitting on the front porch. Gibbs parked and cut off the engine, which roused Tony from his slumber. "Are we home already?" DiNozzo muttered.

Gibbs heart soared upon hearing Tony refer to his house as home. There had been many times over the years that DiNozzo had stayed with him due to different circumstances, and his house had become a second home to him. Tony had told him once that as long as Gibbs was around, he always had a place to go that he felt both loved and wanted. Not for the first time, Jethro Gibbs found himself cursing DiNozzo Sr., for instilling those doubts in Tony's mind when he was a child.

Forcing the disturbing thoughts out of his head, he nodded and pointed to the porch. "Looks like your fan club is waiting."

As they got out of the car and started walking towards the house, Gibbs was nearly bowled over by Abby, who flung herself at Tony, pulling the exhausted man into a fierce hug.

"Oh my god, Tony. I was so worried about you!" she exclaimed. "Are you all right?" Abby glared at the team leader. "You've been nice to him, haven't you? I mean you didn't yell at him or head slap him or anything?"

"Abs," Gibbs began to protest.

"Never mind. Don't answer that. Tony doesn't like it when you're nice to him," the Goth informed him. "It freaks him out."

Gibbs pulled Abby aside allowing Tony to make his way towards the front door. "Abs, you and Palmer stay with Tony. Get him to eat something and if he won't rest, tell him to go downstairs and work on cleaning up the basement," he instructed.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, offering no further explanation.

Abby eyed him suspiciously. "Did Tony really kill that man?"

"Says he did. I've got no reason to doubt him."

"But Tony wouldn't just kill anybody in cold blood."

How could he explain to her that even men like Tony had their breaking point? Gibbs had discovered his years ago and had taken a life without a second thought. He had yet to discover everything that Tony had endured at the hands of his sadistic captors, and he wasn't sure that he would ever know all the details. One thing was for certain, he didn't hold Tony responsible for his actions; if anything, he admired DiNozzo for having the courage to put an end to his suffering, knowing that he would have to live with the consequences for the rest of his life.

"He did what he had to do, Abs," Gibbs stated, hoping his conviction erased her doubts.

"Did he tell you um…how, I mean why…"

"Abs, go stay with Tony, please. I'll be back soon."

He smiled as Abby kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry, Bossman. He's in good hands. I might be able to talk him into another tattoo."

Gibbs gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "Let him get used to this one first, Abs."

"Do you like it?" she wanted to know.

"I think it's…appropriate."

Heading towards his car, he pulled out his cell phone and for the second time in a twenty four hour period, he called the one man who could help him figure out what to do. "Hey Duck."

"Jethro!" the cultured voice rang out. "How was the doctor's appointment?"

"A disaster," he sighed. "But that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh?"

"I need your help with something."

"And what would that be?"

Gibbs spouted off the address of the alley where he and Tony had left earlier. "Remember Panama?"

"Of course I do," Ducky replied. "It was where…Jethro, are you telling me we have a similar situation?"

"Be discreet Ducky. I'll meet you there."

The team leader sped off towards the alley that led to the tomb that DiNozzo had been held in for several months. He wanted to look around before Ducky arrived to see if he could figure out the mystery of Tony's captivity. Why had Tony been taken? Why were they so intent on convincing him that no one would ever come to help him? What had they done to him that persuaded Tony that his life no longer mattered? What was the final straw that rendered DiNozzo capable of murder?

He wasn't sure if he would discover any of the answers to these questions, but he had to try. Maybe then he could understand what drove Anthony DiNozzo to become Todd Gibbs and why Todd Gibbs couldn't accept the fact that he was Anthony DiNozzo.

It was then that a thought occurred to him. What if Todd was protecting Tony? Tony DiNozzo, being an ethical man couldn't in his right mind, murder another person just for simple revenge; but perhaps Todd could. Todd was as different from Tony as night was from day. Todd dealt with his memories by drinking and Tony was so beaten down, that he was content to allow his doppelganger to take over.

Gibbs scrubbed his face. If that was truly the case, then things just got a lot more complicated.


	28. Chapter 28

Part 28

Numb was the only word that could describe how Tony DiNozzo was feeling at that particular moment. Abby and Palmer had brought him back to Gibbs' house where he was now sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on the coffee table in front him in an effort to avoid the worried filled glances being directed at him by his friends. The one thing that he couldn't block out was Abby and Jimmy's hushed whispers coming from the kitchen as they busied themselves fixing him something to eat. He had no doubt that his earlier meltdown was the topic of conversation and they were trying to figure out exactly what they could say without him having another emotional upheaval.

Tony wondered if he should inform them that they were wasting their time; he didn't feel like eating and he certainly didn't feel like talking. The thought of doing either of those tasks set his stomach churning and the last thing he wanted to do was to throw up on Gibbs' floor. Within a twenty-four hour period, he had destroyed the team leader's basement and boat, freaked out at his doctor's appointment, and had admitted to killing a man. He had caused enough trouble for the former Marine for one day and he was certain that making street pizza on his floor would not be the way to endear him to the agent.

He sighed as his thoughts centered on the enigmatic Gibbs. Why had he told him what had happened? Why couldn't he fight the memories? Tony had kept them at bay for so long, but now, he couldn't rid his mind of the vile images that were constantly assaulting his ability to distinguish the past and the present. Everyone, including Gibbs, had told him that he could reclaim his life, but now that was impossible. The door of his past and been opened wide for all to see; now there would only be more questions and he would lose what little ground he had gained.

Cradling his head in his hands, he intertwined his fingers in his hair and began tugging at the stray locks. The pain would help keep him focused or so Steve had told him many times. Tony had quickly figured out that Steve was a bold faced liar. Pain had only served to humiliate and destroy his soul and his had been completely torn to shreds. There was nothing left of him except a scarred body and a damaged mind and he had been a fool to believe that he wasn't anything more than a drunkard.

A drink was what he wanted at the moment, but he knew that Gibbs had cleared out all the liquor in the house. Despite every agonizing moment that he had endured during his physical withdrawal, Tony still had a difficult time quelling what the doctor had referred to as the psychological dependency of the alcohol. Although his body no longer craved the substance, his mind was not completely free from it. There were times that being sober wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"Pull yourself together," he quietly chastised.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, he sat back against the cushion. "Great," Tony mumbled. "Now I'm sitting here talking to myself; maybe I need to be locked up."

It was at that moment that Abby and Palmer elected to join him, carrying three plates and three glasses of milk. Obviously, they were determined to make sure that he ate something and had invited themselves to be his dining companions. "Did you say something, Tony?' Abby asked.

He shook his head. There wasn't any need for them to know that he was losing his mind. "No," he lied. "I didn't say anything."

"If you were talking to yourself, that's okay. I do that all the time."

Tony managed a tired grin as the Goth placed his plate and glass in front of him. "Grilled cheese ala Scuito," Abby proudly announced.

He was fighting the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him as the sight and smell of the food assaulted his senses. "Uh, no thanks, Abby. I'm not very hungry."

"Gibbs said that you had to eat something, Tony. You need to put some weight back on and besides, you love my grilled cheese."

"I do?" He knew that he would just have to take her word for it. For the last few months, food had not been one of Tony's priorities; he had been more concerned about where his next bottle of whiskey was coming from.

"She does make an incredible sandwich," Palmer added, interrupting his trip down memory lane.

Abby nodded in agreement. "It's the combination of three types of cheese and instead of mayonnaise, I use…"

"You use three different types of cheese? I only saw you use two and…"

"Uh guys?" Tony swallowed hard. "I appreciate the thought, but I'm really _not_ hungry."

"I can fix you something else," Abby offered.

Tony closed his eyes and laid back against the cushion, hoping that the dull throbbing in his head would not develop into a full-fledged migraine. "I want a drink," he whispered, forgetting that Abby and Palmer were still in the living room.

Abby sat down next to him and leaned against his shoulder as her long slender fingers wrapped around his. He found the demonstration of affection oddly comforting and natural; it was a feeling that Tony could get used to. He heard Palmer gather the plates and excuse himself from the room, leaving the two of them alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the Goth asked.

"Not really," Tony admitted. "I just want to forget."

"But you can't.

He shook his head, wincing at the slight movement. "No, I can't."

"Maybe it's time for you to remember. Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you that it's time for you to put the past behind you and move on."

"I don't know. I killed a man in cold blood," he reminded her. "How can I move on from that?"

"Tony, no one is going to blame you for killing him; he was an evil, sadistic man and he deserved to die!"

"But I should've been stronger. I let him get to me."

"Look at me," Abby demanded.

Opening his eyes, he met her determined gaze. "What?" he sighed.

"I don't know everything that happened to you, but I do know that it was bad. I also know that I've never met this Steve guy, but I do know that I'm not upset that he's dead."

"I'm not either," Tony conceded. "But by killing him, I sunk to his level. I'm no better than him."

"Don't say that! You're nothing like him," she insisted.

Tony clenched his jaw. "I stabbed him over and over even after he wasn't moving. I had to make sure he was dead. I didn't just kill him, Abby. I butchered him."

He felt her squeeze his hand as she brought up to her dark lips and kissed it. "Tony, what did he do to you?"

There was no easy way to answer her question. Pain and indignity had become his constant companions, causing time to no longer exist. He remembered the day that he finally accepted the fact that no one was ever coming for him; Tony had never felt so alone in his life. The constant taunting and torture had finally become too much for him to bear. A breaking point had been achieved and the man known as Tony DiNozzo was no more.

"I…I remember waking up and it was dark." He felt his throat constrict as he began to recount the first few hours of captivity. "I couldn't see anything. I could hardly stand to move. I tried to get up but my leg was shackled to the floor; I guess I started to panic."

"I can see why," Abby soothed. "You've never been fond of the dark."

"No, I'm not. Not sure why it bothers me, but I guess that it will come back to me sooner or later." A weak, mischievous grin spread across his face. "Or you could just tell me."

"Nope. Your memories have to return on their own."

His smile faded. "Yeah." The only problem with his memory returning was that there were too many things that he wanted to leave buried; unfortunately, circumstances were not going to work in his favor.

"What else do you remember?" Abby pressed.

"The first time…Steve came, he stood just out of my reach and simply stared at me. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was there. He never said anything; he just kept looking at me. I don't how long he stayed, but right before he left, he finally spoke. He said that he was looking forward to breaking me. I mouthed off to him but he just laughed; he had the most evil laugh you could imagine."

He could still hear Steve's laughter whenever he closed his eyes, but he decided not to reveal this to Abby. Tony was already questioning his sanity; he didn't need to add fuel to the fire. With his free hand, he scrubbed his face. How could he begin to describe the horrors of his captivity? He couldn't bear to think about them; how could he talk about them?

"Tony?' she prodded. "Are you okay?"

Shaking his head, he pulled away from her and wrapped his arms around his trembling frame. "No. No, I'm not okay."

He didn't resist as she pulled him against her into one of her infamous hugs. "You're safe now, Tony. No one is going to hurt you ever again."

"You're right about that," he vowed. "I'll die before I go through anything like that again."

"You still haven't told me what happened when…"

Their conversation was interrupted as the front door opened to reveal an attractive red headed woman now standing in the foyer. He had seen her before and remembered being told that she was the Director of NCIS, but as he stared at her, there was a familiarity that he couldn't explain. Tony sat up as she made her way over to them; the knot in his stomach pulling tighter with every click of the woman's heel.

Abby stood up and greeted her. "Director Shepard. What are you doing here?"

"I was just coming to check on Tony and see how he was doing," the Director replied.

Tony pushed himself up off the couch and maneuvered himself between this obviously powerful woman and Abby. There was something about this woman that he did not like. "I'm fine," he finally grunted, refusing to elaborate and hoping that Abby and Palmer, who was now standing in the foyer, would follow his lead. Until he knew why the alarms were going off inside his mind, he would not let his guard down around the Director.

"That's good, Tony. I'm not sure if you remember my name. It's Jenny."

He didn't acknowledge her, but simply stood his ground. What was it about this woman that he didn't trust or like? Tony stared into Jenny Shepard's green eyes searching for an answer, but all that was reflected in her fixed stare was the unspoken request to speak to him in private.

The Director smiled at him, her eyes riveted to his rigid body. "Abby and Jimmy, would you please excuse us? I'd like a few minutes alone with Tony."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Abby said. "He's had a long day and…"

"Consider it an order, Abby."

Tony nodded at his friends, indicating that he would be all right. He figured that Abby would be on the phone to Gibbs in a matter of seconds so he probably wouldn't have a lot of time to figure out why he was so uneasy around the Director. Today had been the day for unwanted memories resurfacing; what was one more?

As he watched Abby and Palmer retreat into the kitchen, Tony was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of vulnerability that frightened him. The Director looked around the room. "Is there some place we can talk?" she asked.

He was about to suggest the basement, but being trapped underground with her was not something that he was going to subject himself to. There was definitely something about her that did not set well with him. Tony motioned towards the front door. "How about the porch?"

"That will be fine, Tony."

Tony shuddered as his name rolled off her lips. He had heard her voice before and now he was certain that she had been in the room that had been his prison all those months. But why? What had he ever done to her that would make her approve of the torture that he had been forced to endure?

He followed her out on the porch, hoping to find the answers he was looking for, but at the same time, scared of what those answers would be. Tony wasn't sure how much more he could handle today, but he was about to find out. He closed the door behind him and waited with baited breath for Jenny to address him. When she finally spoke, he found himself struggling not to flee back inside the house.

"So Tony, how are you really doing?" she coyly began.

"I told you I'm fine."

She took a step closer to him and instinctively backed away from her. "In that case, Agent DiNozzo, I have a few things I need to say to you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So what do you think Duck?"

While the ME had been examining the remains of the man that DiNozzo referred to as Steve, Jethro Gibbs had scoured the dungeon where his senior agent had obviously spent several torturous months. Dried blood and bodily wastes decorated the floor as well as some of the walls. Assorted knives and syringes lay scattered on the single table in the room; chains were attached to the walls in various places, each one of them obviously used in some fashion to keep Tony bound while unspeakable pain was inflicted upon him.

He had gathered as much evidence as possible, hoping that Ducky and Abby could find a clue to Tony's nameless tormentor who had managed to remain elusive. The team leader took special care with the syringes, hoping that the drugs could be identified, giving him more insight into what had happened to Tony.

Joining the Scotsman, he tamped down his own urge to vomit at the sight of the corpse. He had seen many heinous sights in his career, but the knowledge that Tony had been responsible for this act made this one almost unbearable. The thought that DiNozzo had reached his breaking point was almost unfathomable; but Gibbs knew that a man could only take so much. He had reached his breaking point years ago and it had taken him a long time to recover from it.

"I think that this man died a very painful death, but I daresay that he deserved it," Ducky replied. "I can only imagine the desperation that Tony must have felt to…"

"He's only human, Duck. Judging by what all I've seen, the dirtbag got off easy."

"I'm not sure that this…um…Steve would agree with you. He was stabbed over 20 times and his throat was slit; a very violent death indeed. I still can't believe that Tony could…"

Gibbs eyes narrowed. "You don't know what this man did to him, Duck. I don't even know all the details. I just know that it's a good thing he's dead; it saves me the trouble of hunting him down and killing him myself. There's at least one more bastard out there and when I find him, he'll regret the day he ever laid eyes on my agent," he vowed.

"Just don't let your pursuit get in the way of Tony's recovery," the physician warned. "He is going to need you even more now that the memories of his captivity are surfacing."

The team leader bristled. "I wasn't there when he was lying in his own filth calling out my name and I wasn't there when they were shooting him up with drugs that kept him from thinking straight, but I'm not going to let him down again."

"I didn't mean…"

Gibbs waved off Ducky's apology. "It's all right, Duck. I'm just a little on edge."

"That's understandable."

He stared at the corpse lying at his feet. "I want this kept under wraps," the team leader insisted. "DiNozzo doesn't need this broadcasted right now. There are still too many variables out there."

Puzzled, the doctor asked, "Such as?

Gibbs blew out an exasperated breath. "Such as Tony's memory. I don't know if he's holding back or if he just doesn't want to tell me. I think he's trying to hold on to this Todd Gibbs persona and that something is keeping him from completely accepting that he's Anthony DiNozzo. Now that we know the truth about Steve, I'm worried that Tony will find a reason to stay away."

"Have you thought about my suggestion of hypnosis?"

"Yeah, but I just don't know. Right now, he's not even willing to talk to a counselor; I can only imagine his reaction to the idea of someone hypnotizing him."

"Perhaps I could talk to him. He seems a little more at ease around me."

Gibbs felt like the ME had just punched him in the gut. He knew that Tony still didn't completely trust him, but to hear his friend confirm his suspicions was more painful that he wanted to admit.

"I'm sorry, Jethro," Ducky apologized. "I didn't mean to imply that…"

"Don't apologize for telling the truth. He doesn't trust me, at least not completely."

"I don't think that he trusts anybody, well with the exception of Abby, but truthfully he only trusts her to a degree. Just give him…"

"I know," he finished. "Just give him time."

Ducky nodded as Gibbs patted him on the shoulder. "I just hope we have the time, Duck. I just have this feeling that DiNozzo is running out of time."

His cell phone rang and the panicked voice of Abby greeted him. "Gibbs, you better get home quick."

"What's wrong?" he demanded to know.

"The Director is here."

"Jenny? What's she doing there?"

"She wanted to talk to Tony and I just don't have a good feeling about him being alone with her. I mean I'm not saying that the Director would hurt him or anything, but Tony looked nervous."

Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where are they now?"

"On the front porch."

"I'm on my way," he growled.

Snapping shut his phone, he headed towards his car. Calling over his shoulder, he instructed the ME to take care of the body and that he would meet him at NCIS. His mind focused solely on Tony, he barely heard Ducky calling out to him.

"Is something wrong?" the Scotsman cried out.

Gibbs paused at the door and met the older man's concerned gaze. "I think I just found a piece of the puzzle."


	29. Chapter 29

**I deeply apologize for the delay in posting but real life hit me hard the last couple of weeks. A spur of the moment vacation, writing skits for vacation Bible school, school supply shopping, getting the kids ready to start school, training days at work, and vacation Bible school starting tonight…well, you get the picture. But nevertheless, this post is ready for your reading pleasure. Hoping things will slow down a bit and I can get back on a regular schedule. Thanks for bearing with me and I hope this post has been worth the wait. **

Disgusted, the team leader slung his cell phone in the passenger's seat after his third attempt at trying to contact Jenny. She was obviously ignoring his calls, her attention apparently focused on Tony and that unnerved him more than he cared to admit. His former lover was a formidable and dangerous woman when she had to be; self-preservation was her only priority and unfortunately, she was more than willing to sacrifice a man's life and career to get what she wanted.

Gibbs couldn't shake the feeling that once again Tony was about to be the pawn in a game that he didn't understand. His infamous gut was churning, telling him that somehow the Director knew more about Tony's disappearance than she wanted to admit. Jenny had used her position as Director of NCIS once before to satisfy her own personal vendetta. If he discovered that she had done this again, he would personally bring her down.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter as his foot pressed down on the accelerator. His mind was working overtime attempting to recall anything in the past year that would give him cause to doubt Jenny's motives. Ever since the La Grenouille fiasco, the relationship between DiNozzo and the Director had been strained; her motives for him sacrificing nearly a year of his life had become abundantly clear to the younger man after nearly being killed by a car bomb. Tony had resented her for using him and he was angry at himself for allowing her to manipulate him.

The former Marine thought back to the argument between himself and Jenny after Rene Benoit had seemingly vanished. That night after he, Ziva, and McGee had searched the yacht, Gibbs had sought refuge in his basement, intending to unwind with a quiet night of drinking and working on his boat, but the arrival of Jenny had curbed his plans, forcing a confrontation that had been a long time coming.

_***flashback***_

_He swallowed back a shot of bourbon as the familiar footsteps made their way down the stairs. Director Jenny Shepard was truly the last person that he had wanted to see, but evidently she felt the need to seek him out. His anger at her deception was still fresh and he had yet to work through the ill feelings that he harbored towards her, but if she wanted a confrontation, he would be more than willing to oblige her._

"_I figured I'd find you down here," she said as she descended the final step._

_Gibbs poured himself another drink. "What can I do for you, Director?"_

"_So it's Director now," Jenny sighed. "Look Jethro, I know your upset about…"_

_The team leader's eyes narrowed, his harsh gaze burning holes into what little of her soul that she had not sold to the devil. "Upset doesn't even begin to cover it, Jen. You used your position as Director for your own personal grudge and in the process, you nearly got my senior field agent killed."_

"_Tony knew the risks when he agreed to go undercover. He allowed too many variables to factor into the equation and…"_

"_Don't!" he growled. "Don't you try and put this off on Tony. He was simply your pawn and you were ready to sacrifice him so you could get the Frog; or have you already forgotten that he almost died yesterday?"_

"_I haven't forgotten anything," Jenny retorted. "I was right there with you."_

"_Were you upset at the thought of losing an agent or were you more worried about losing your only contact with Benoit?"_

_Jenny placed her hands on her hips. "The welfare of my agents is always foremost on my mind, Agent Gibbs."_

"_Really? You could have fooled me," Gibbs retorted. "Why are you here, Jen?"_

"_Because I think we need to clear up a few things."_

"_I think you're here to try and ease your guilty conscience," he countered. _

"_I don't have a guilty conscience; I just think that I need to explain…"_

"_I'm not the one you need to talk to." Gibbs knew that Tony probably didn't want to hear what she had to say any more than he did, but he wanted her to know what her actions had cost DiNozzo. _

"_I've tried," Jenny admitted. "He's not answering his home phone and he hasn't replaced his cell."_

"_I gave him a couple of days off. I think he's earned it. You've had him pretty much working 24 hours a daythe last year."_

_Jenny walked over and leaned against his workbench. "I don't think that it was such a tremendous sacrifice on his part; I mean he wasn't complaining when he was managing to bed Jeanne Benoit."_

"_You saw what was happening and you didn't pull him out."_

"_I couldn't."_

_His rage was beginning to consume him. "Couldn't or wouldn't?" Gibbs challenged._

"_Tony was in too deep by the time I realized what was happening. I knew that it would end badly; that was the only way that it could end."_

_Gibbs clenched his fist. Possibly for the first time n his life, Tony had been in love; he had finally allowed someone to finally see behind that mask that he so easily wore all the while pretending to be someone else. DiNozzo's heart had not only been broken, it had been completely shattered. It would take a long time for him to heal and even longer to allow himself to fall in love again. _

"_No, it wasn't the only way it could've ended." Gibbs finished off his drink and turned his back on the Director. "I think you need to leave."_

"_Jethro, please; just hear me out."_

"_I'm not going to ask you again, Director Shepard. Leave," he repeated, his voice tight and controlled. _

"_Jethro, it's not over."_

"_It is for me and it is for my team."_

"_You don't understand," she pleaded. _

"_That's where you're wrong, Jen. I do understand. I understand that as long as you get what you're after, nothing else matters."_

_Jenny threw her hands up in disgust. "I can't talk to you when you're like this. Just remember this, Jethro; if we're not on the same page, all this can come back and haunt us later."_

"_Ever get tired from running from all those ghosts?"_

_He allowed his gaze to follow her as she made her way up the stairs. "Be sure you close the door behind you," Gibbs instructed. _

"_We'll continue this tomorrow at the office."_

"_I'm not coming in tomorrow. Gave myself a couple of days off as well."_

"_I didn't authorize it."_

"_I didn't ask." _

_The team leader turned away from her and began working on his boat. As soon as he heard the front door close, he picked up his cell phone and dialed Tony's number. "Come on, DiNozzo, pick up." As soon as the answering machine picked up, Gibbs snapped his phone shut and threw it back on the workbench. The former Marine pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to quell his own feelings of guilt that had managed to surface._

_This last year had been a difficult one for him personally as he had been forced to rebuild his life and there were times that he wasn't sure if he truly belonged at NCIS. Tony had been the one to keep the team together and he had managed to do so while working undercover; Gibbs wasn't so sure that he would have been able to accomplish such a demanding feat. He was proud of Tony, but instead of telling him, he had simply ignored him, believing that DiNozzo would know how he felt without any verbal confirmation. As team leader, he had missed all the signs and now Tony was suffering mentally and emotionally. _

_Bounding up the steps, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. Gibbs knew he had to find Tony and talk to the younger man; he had to make sure that DiNozzo was all right. He couldn't lose his senior field agent, his son, to a life that he would never be satisfied living. Determined to make things right, he sped off into the night; hoping that he wasn't too late to tell Tony that he was sorry._

_***end flashback***_

"I'm sorry, Tony," he whispered. "I let you down again."

He muttered a curse under his breath as the car suddenly swerved. Lightening fast reflexes enabled him to get the car to the shoulder of the road. Getting out of the car, he walked around to the passenger's side the vehicle to discover that there was nothing left of the right front tire. His first instinct was to take his weapon and put the car out of its misery, but logic prevailed and he simply decided to change the tire. Gibbs sighed in frustration, wondering what else could possibly go wrong.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony purposefully kept his distance from the Director of NCIS, unable to ignore the warning flags going off in his mind. He wrapped his arms around his gaunt frame in a subconscious effort to protect himself from the uncertainty of Jenny Shepard's intentions. Why did he feel so nervous around her? Why couldn't he remember anything about her? What did she want from him? Tony wasn't sure that he was prepared to learn the answers to his questions.

He swallowed hard. "So, what can I do for you, Director?"

"I just wanted to see for myself how you're doing. I keep getting the runaround from Jethro, so I figured I would find out for myself," she answered.

The young man easily sensed that her tone was lacking in sincerity; she definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting to see him. Tony shifted uncomfortably as her green orbs seemingly bore a hole through his soul. His first instinct was to run but he knew that one day he had to stop running; it might as well be today.

"That's nice of you, but that's not why you're here." He prayed that his voice exuded more confidence than he felt at the time.

"I see some things never change. You still manage to get right to the point, don't you, Agent DiNozzo?"

He involuntarily flinched at the sound of his given name. Tony wondered if there would ever come a time when he would be able to fully accept that he was Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. "If you say so, ma'am."

Her smile unsettled him and he struggled to hide his fear. "So, what is it you really want?" he finally asked.

"I need to know the details of what happened to you while you were being held captive."

"Why?'

"You were missing for a year. As your Director, I need to know what happened. If you're going to come back to work, it's my responsibility to make sure that you're physically and mentally fit."

Tony crossed his arms. "I figured that would be the doc's job; NCIS does have its own head hunter, right?"

"If you mean psychologist, yes we do. But, I have to be convinced of your ability to carry out your duties and if I'm not convinced, I have the option of reassigning you."

"You're putting the cart before the horse. I'm nowhere ready to even think about coming back to work. I've got too many things jumbled up in my mind, but I appreciate your concern." His own voice was now dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and exhaustion. "So, why don't you go ahead and ask me whatever it is that you want to ask me?"

The Director visibly bristled. "I've heard about the man that you refer to as Steve and that he was primarily the one that hurt you, but you mentioned another man being present."

Tony pushed the memories that were constantly vying for his attention to the far recesses of his mind. He had already allowed Gibbs to see the darkness of his heart and it had cost him dearly; Tony had killed Steve and despite the older man's protests, he wasn't sure that the team leader would actually want a murderer as his senior field agent.

"Yes," he sighed. "Sometimes, there was another man present, but I never saw him."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I never saw him. I just heard him."

"You heard his voice?" she questioned.

"Yeah…I'll never forget it."

"What did it sound like?"

"What does it matter? What does this have to do with me coming back to work?" he challenged.

"I'm concerned about…"

"Don't go there, Director Shepard. Living on the streets taught me a few things such as learning how to spot a load of B.S. a mile away. Stop trying to feed me a line of crap and tell me what you're fishing for."

"I assure you that…"

Tony never heard her response. He staggered and blindly reached out for the support of the wall. Cradling his head in his hands, he managed to clumsily sit down on the porch as random images assaulted his mind. In one vision, he was making love to a beautiful woman and in the next scene, he was in a limousine and watching another car exploding; another image of him firing a gun was quickly replaced by a man pinning him against the wall demanding to know the whereabouts of someone called La Grenouille.

He forced back the sudden nausea at the sound of the familiar voice. He knew that voice; it was the voice from his nightmares. Tony would listen to this faceless voice as Steve mercilessly tormented him, asking him questions that he could not answer. He remembered wanting to answer, but something inside him had forbid him to speak and unfortunately, his silence had cost him dearly. It had cost him his identity and his integrity.

"Tony?' Jenny called out to him. "Are you all right? Are you remembering something?"

Tony pulled away when he felt her hand on his arm. "Go away," he rasped.

"Let me help you," Jenny pleaded.

He scrambled against the door. "You knew. You knew what was…happening to me."

"What? No Tony; it wasn't like that."

"You knew."

"Tony, you're confused. You're mind is playing tricks on you."

"Leave me alone!" he roared.

The door swung open and suddenly the commotion around him became too much for him to process. He could hear Abby demanding to know what the Director had done to him and Jimmy was repeatedly saying his name. Their voices were becoming muddled with the voices from his past and his ability to distinguish between realities was becoming next to impossible.

"Get back!"

The voice of reason broke through the fog of his mind. Gibbs! Gibbs was here and the former Marine would have his six; he had made a vow and right now, Tony had every intention of making the team leader keep his promise. Suddenly the cacophony of noise dissipated and a pair of strong arms were pulling him to his feet. "Boss," he whispered.

"I've got you, DiNozzo," Gibbs assured him. "Let's get you inside."

He vaguely recalled hearing the lead agent order Abby and Jimmy to stay with the Director. Tony held on to Gibbs' arms for dear life as he shakily walked across the floor. "I know…I know who was…with Steve…"

Gibbs lowered him on to the cushion of the couch and then sat down beside him. His hands were trembling and his stomach was still queasy as he fought to gain control over his warring emotions. "I know, Gibbs. I can hear his voice; I don't know his name, but I know his voice."

"All right, Tony. You just take it easy and pull it together. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?'

"To have a few words with the Director."

Tony grabbed the team leader's arm. "No! No! She knows who it is. She knows who was in there with me," he informed the older man. "She kept trying to pull something out of me and then I had a flashback of some kind and I made the connection."

"All right, take it easy," Gibbs quietly urged. "Tell me what you remember."

"The voice. He had an accent and I remember him having me against the wall, at least I think it was me," Tony added. "I looked kind of different, but it was my face. I think I was coming out of an elevator and..." Confusion reigned in his mind as he attempted to make sense of the past and the present. "I don't know. I can't get it straight in my head."

Gibbs shoved a glass of water in his hand and ordered him to drink. "Just relax, Tony. I'll only be a minute and then we're going to sort this all out."

"I'm not sure I can."

He felt his chin being tilted up until his eyes met the team leader's own concerned gaze. "You're not going to have to do it alone. I've got your six. Abby and Jimmy will be here if you need anything and I'll be just outside the door."

Tony lay back against the couch and closed his eyes, silently willing the memories to get back in the box that they had escaped from. He heard the door slam and knew that Director Shepard was about to be on the receiving end of Gibbs' wrath, but he didn't care. The young man found himself hoping that the former Marine would have her sniveling like a green recruit. Her extended presence had forced him to remember when he lacked the confidence to handle the memories that surfaced and now, she was going to have to answer to Gibbs. That realization brought a tiny smile to his face as he strained to listen to the argument now taking place on the front porch.


	30. Chapter 30

Okay, a lot of revelations happen in this posts and a couple of twists. It took a couple of rewrites but I hope its been worth the wait. Thank you all for your continued support and loyalty; I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me.

**Part 30 **

Jethro Gibbs wanted answers and unfortunately, Director Jenny Shepard was the only one who could give him those answers. He was still uncertain as to the depth of her involvement in Tony's disappearance and subsequent torture, but he would soon discover exactly how much she knew. Rage was erupting from the volcano within him and he was not sure that he was going to be able to contain his anger; this time he would make sure that Jenny was held accountable for using DiNozzo as a pawn in whatever sick game she was playing.

He opened his front door and with a slight nod of his head, silently ordered Abby and Jimmy back inside to stay with Tony. As soon they were alone, he turned his attention to his former lover as she shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. In two purposeful strides, he had closed the distance between them forcing her back against the railing. Gibbs clenched his fists, resisting the urge to go against his principle of never hitting a lady. Jenny had dared to cross that line and once again, DiNozzo had been the one to suffer the consequences.

"Is Tony all right?" she asked, attempting to act as normal possible.

"Cut the crap, _Director_," he snarled. "You're not worried about Tony; you came here with your own agenda."

Gibbs observed Jenny visibly bristle at his accusation. "I think I need to go."

"Not until I get some answers. You came here to find out something, what was it?"

"I came to check on the welfare of one of my agents, Agent Gibbs," Jenny sharply countered.

"Then why did you need to speak to him in private?"

"Why are you interrogating me?"

Sensing her defensiveness, Gibbs continued to relentlessly press her for details regarding Tony's disappearance; he owed it to DiNozzo to find out the truth.

"Because I think that you know a lot more than you're telling," the team leader shot back. "When I got here, DiNozzo was in the middle of a flashback and it took a hell of a lot more than a simple how are you feeling to trigger it!"

Jenny started at him, her green orbs mirroring his harsh glare. "I really need to go."

Gibbs grabbed her by the arm, refusing to let her leave. "We're not done yet. Not by a long shot."

He tightened his grip as she attempted to pull free. "Have you lost your mind?" the Director challenged.

"Not yet, but keep lying to me and I won't be responsible for my actions."

Their faces were mere centimeters apart, his hardened expression a representation of the anger and frustration building up inside of him. "I'm only going to ask you this once, so you better listen close," he warned. "Is Trent Kort the second man that Tony keeps referring to?'

"Trent Kort?" she echoed. "Tony must be confusing his returning memories with his past encounter with Kort."

"Don't go down that road, Jen. You better level with me!" Gibbs growled. "Tony had a flashback and placed the voice with the image of a man pinning him against the elevator and we both know that was Kort."

"Let go of me!" Jenny pulled her arm free and ended up half falling into the nearest rocker.

"I want answers, Director!" He was no longer trying to hide the wrath that was consuming him like an inferno. "Was it Trent Kort?"

Gibbs knew her better than she knew herself and he could tell by her silence that she was trying to figure out her next move. He would not allow her to shift the blame elsewhere; DiNozzo was missing almost a year of his life and she was partly, if not entirely, to blame. "I'm waiting for an answer, Director Shepard."

"Yes," she sighed. "It was Trent Kort, but…"

Gibbs rose to his full height and slammed his fist against the post. Ignoring the pain now shooting through his arm, he began to pace, his growing hatred of his ex-partner fueling every step he took. "And what's your part in this whole nightmare, Jen?" he demanded to know.

"Jethro, this is all a misunderstanding and…"

He stopped in mid-stride and whirled around to face her. "A misunderstanding? I don't think that this qualifies as a misunderstanding. You knew where Tony was this whole time and you did nothing to help him! What were you after, Jen? Were you punishing him because of the Frog? Was nearly getting killed and losing Jeanne not enough penance to suit you?"

"You don't understand!"

"What I don't understand is how you can in stand by and watch a good man being put through hell when you could have put a stop to it."

She rose from her seat; her determined gaze a reflection of the fury that was building up inside of her. Gibbs knew that if he kept pushing Jenny that she would eventually supply him with the answers he so desperately sought. "That's where you're wrong, Jethro," the Director informed him. "My hands were tied."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," she sneered. "It was either work in conjunction with the CIA or end up attending Tony's funeral. I went with what I believe to be the lesser of two evils."

"There was a threat on Tony's life?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't think I should've been made aware of this?"

"Like I said, _Agent_ Gibbs, I did what I thought was the best for the agency _and_ for Tony."

The team leader shook his head in disbelief. How could she do this to Tony? "I'm sure you did. You're always putting others first." Venom was dripping from his words and he could only hope that she could feel the sting. "So Director Shepard, tell me how DiNozzo being tortured for months, losing his memory, and becoming an alcoholic was the best overall solution; right now, I'm having a little trouble seeing it."

"It's complicated."

"I think I can probably follow your reasoning. Start explaining," the former Marine insisted. Gibbs was rapidly growing tired of the runaround that Jenny was giving him.

"I wasn't brought into the equation until after Tony had been missing for a couple of weeks. The CIA had enlisted Steve Burgess, who was simply nothing more than a mercenary for hire, to capture Tony with Trent Kort overseeing the entire operation. There was some concern that La Grenouille had provided Agent DiNozzo with some information that could be damaging to Trent Kort and the CIA had to make sure that the information didn't get into the wrong hands."

"So instead of simply asking Tony, they tortured him," Gibbs scowled. "That doesn't make a lot of sense, Director."

"Trent gave me his word that Agent DiNozzo's life would be spared."

"And you believed him?"

"Yes!"

"I guess you think that I should thank you for the fact that Burgess didn't kill him," the lead agent grunted. "Instead, you let them nearly destroy his mind and that's almost as bad, Jen. He was tortured! Why? They made him believe that I wasn't looking for him! Why? You better come up with a good answer because you're not going to be able to hide behind that chair again!"

"The CIA didn't want Agent DiNozzo to have any memory of the interrogation."

"And I guess Kort authorized Burgess to use any means necessary."

Jenny's silence spoke volumes of her guilt. "I don't know," she admitted. "I only saw Tony once during the time that Burgess had him. I can only assume that things got out of hand."

Gibbs clenched his jaw tightly causing the vein in his temple to throb. "Out of hand? I think that's a bit of an understatement." He was momentarily taken back by her inadvertent revelation. "Wait a minute; you saw him?"

She swallowed hard. "Yes," Jenny reluctantly reiterated.

Unable to trust his voice, Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose as he realized that Jenny had ultimately betrayed not only Tony, but him as well. Despite her claim that she was simply following orders, it was evident that somewhere along this twisted path, she had lost sight of her humanity and unfortunately, the man that he thought of as a son was the one to pay the price.

Disgust was the only word that could adequately describe his feelings towards his former partner and lover. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was already constructing a plan to cover her tracks, but this time, she would not get away with her treachery.

When he was finally able to speak, he didn't bother to hide his displeasure with the Director. "You saw him and knew what they were doing to him and you walked away?"

"I had to."

Gibbs' volatile temper exploded. It didn't bother him that he was now receiving strange looks from a few neighbors that were passing by; he wanted Jenny to feel the full force of his wrath. "I don't believe you! You have no idea of the hell Tony's been through!

"Do you have any idea of what it's like to have your identity completely taken away from you? He's trying to piece his life back together based on bits and pieces of images that he doesn't understand while staying sober and it's all because you kept your mouth shut! You know something, Jen? I think that part of you was glad to see Tony gone so you wouldn't be reminded of your failure with the Frog!"

"That's not true!" she argued.

"There's no excuse for what you've done! You condemned DiNozzo the moment you turned your back on him and walked away."

He saw the angry tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks, but they would not sway him from his attack. She was going to answer for the needless agony that Tony had endured and he planned on being judge and executioner.

"Maybe you should keep in mind, Agent Gibbs, that Tony isn't completely innocent in this," she pointed out.

"He's not going to be your fall guy again."

Gibbs was more than familiar with the silent challenge Jenny was issuing when she crossed her arms and held her head up proudly; arrogance and defiance were radiating from within her core. "Tell me, Agent Gibbs; do you know what happened to Steve Burgess?"

The team leader's gaze narrowed until his own eyes were shooting daggers through what was left of the Director's heart. It was obvious from the hidden accusation that she was still in contact with Trent Kort; how else would she know that DiNozzo had killed Burgess? "I don't think you really want to go there."

"I will if I have to."

He wasn't surprised by her threat. A grim smile briefly danced on his lips. "Is it the thrill of the power that comes from sitting in the big chair? Is that what makes you think that you have the right to ruin people's lives?"

"Stop being so melodramatic, Jethro," she taunted. "It really doesn't suit you. Just like you, I've always done what I've had to in order to survive."

"You're nothing like me, Jen. You crossed the line and you're going to have to answer for what you've done."

"And Tony will have to answer for what he's done."

"The bastard deserved to die!"

"Murder is murder."

"You ought to know."

The sound of his cell phone ringing prevented him from having to hear her retort. "Gibbs," he snapped.

"You need to back off, Gibbs."

His body tensed at the sound of the Kort's voice. He was now talking to the man that had been responsible for turning DiNozzo's life upside down. "You son of a…"

"It's nice to see that you haven't forgotten me, Agent Gibbs. I have a few things that I need to discuss with you."

"When and where?" the team leader impatiently inquired.

"Where you found the body of Steve Burgess," Kort replied. "Come alone. I really don't think you need to involved Director Shepard. I'll meet you there in 4 hours with the answers that you're looking for."

"Why not now?"

"Because I'm going to be tied up with a little mess that needs cleaning up. Four hours and don't be late."

"I'll be there." Gibbs snapped shut his phone and slipped it back in his pocket. "I think you need to go, but don't worry, I'm not through with you. In the meantime, stay away from Tony."

"Who was that? Was that Kort?" she questioned, purposefully ignoring his instructions.

"None of your business, Director Shepard," he fumed. "Now leave."

"Jethro, I know you don't believe me, but I really didn't mean for Tony to get hurt."

"Save your lies, Jen. I'm not interested."

Gibbs watched her make her way to her car. As she pulled off, he blew out a frustrated breath knowing that he was going to have gain control of his raging emotions before he saw Tony. The sound of an explosion instinctively caused him to hit the ground as he shielded his head from the falling debris. Quickly pushing himself up off the porch, he ran to the curb and looked up the street to discover Jenny Shepard's car in flames.

He scrubbed his face as he stood unmoving as the car continued to burn. There was no way that Jenny could have survived that blast and Gibbs couldn't help but wonder if this was the mess that Kort referred to as to having to clean up. A lump formed in his throat at the possibility of Trent targeting anyone that he considered to be a danger to him; if that was the case, it meant that Tony was in danger.

Pulling out his phone, he called McGee. "McGee, you and David get to my house asap!"

"Is everything okay, Boss?" McGee asked.

"No." Hanging up, he started to call 911 when he heard the sound of sirens turning down his street. He knew that there was no way that the fire department could have arrived so soon after the explosion unless someone had called it in before it had actually happened. There was no question as to who was responsible for the explosion; Kort wasn't someone to trifle with and he had just sent a reminder to everyone involved in this nightmare.

His front door flew open as Tony ran out of the house with Abby and Jimmy on his heels. Gibbs caught the younger man before he could catch a glimpse of the devastating effects of the explosion. "Let's get you back in the house, Tony," he quietly urged.

"What happened?" DiNozzo wanted to know. "The whole house shook and…"

Knowing that there wasn't any use lying to DiNozzo, he patiently answered, "I'm not sure. Jenny had just pulled away from the curb and then her car exploded."

Tony pulled free and stared at the organized chaos in the street as the firefighters scrambled to extinguish the flames. Gibbs placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and guided him back towards the house. "Come on Tony, there's nothing you can do here." DiNozzo didn't resist his efforts and allowed the team leader to usher him back into the relative safety of the house.

"Abby! Palmer! Get inside!" he ordered.

"But shouldn't we do something, Gibbs?" Abby nervously asked.

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. "No. There's nothing we can do. It's all being taken care of."

He maneuvered Tony over to the couch and shoved a glass of water in his trembling hands. "Drink this," he gently ordered.

DiNozzo took the glass but stared straight ahead, obviously not caring that the water was sloshing out all over him. Gibbs sat on the table in front of Tony and placed his calloused hands on top of his in an effort to still them. "You okay?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't know," he rasped. "I…keep seeing things; remembering I guess."

"What kind of things?"

"It's all mixed up and I can't get it straight in my mind."

"It'll come in time," Gibbs assured him.

His gaze was fixed on DiNozzo as the senior field agent closed his eyes. It broke his heart to see the inner struggle of the younger man as he tried to piece together the missing pieces of his life. He knew that Tony more than likely was experiencing mixed emotions from his encounter with Jenny and her subsequent death, but he hoped that DiNozzo would remember that he didn't have to try and sort through them alone.

Tony's voice was barely audible. "You keep saying that but how much longer do I have to wait? How…"

Tony pulled free of Gibbs' grasp and cradled his head. His expression was a mask of agony and fear and the team leader wanted desperately to take away his pain. "Tony, what's wrong?" he pressed.

Tears began to stream down Tony's cheeks. Gibbs moved beside him and pulled him against his shoulder. "Talk to me, Tony."

Gibbs' throat constricted as he choked back his own sobs; Tony's gut wrenching cries were tearing at his very soul. He nodded his approval as Abby sat on the other side of DiNozzo and gently rubbed his arm. After a few moments, Tony wiped the wet tracks off his face and mumbled an apology.

"You don't have to apologize, Tony," the former Marine said.

"I know, but it seems like all I can do today is cry like a blubbering idiot."

"You've been through a lot. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours."

Tony met his gaze, his cheeks still slightly flushed with embarrassment. "I remember," he whispered. "God help me, I remember everything…"


	31. Chapter 31

**Would anyone like to call my boss and tell her that I have a life outside of work that involves writing? Geesh! I apologize for the lateness, but like I said, work has been unreal; please believe me when I say I feel horrible for making you all wait so long. Anyway, here's the next post and I hope it's been worth the wait. Thank you all for your continued support and for not giving up on me! Enjoy! Now, I'm off to work on Long Road! **

**Part 31**

Tony cradled his head in his trembling hands as the images of his past continued to collide with his present reality. His memories were ravaging his shattered mind; each thought was a piece of a puzzle and although the pieces were beginning to fall into place, he was having a difficult time seeing the entire picture. He knew that Gibbs was patiently waiting for him to reveal everything that had he had remembered but he was still struggling to make sense of the scenes that were randomly playing in his head.

Why had he just told the team leader that he had remembered everything? He wasn't sure what had served as the catalyst for the influx of memories, but whatever it was had clearly broken through the levy that had been holding back the waves of darkness in his captive mind. Doubt and uncertainty still plagued him as he realized the high expectations that he had placed on himself by admitting to the reemergence of the past that he had tried so hard to forget.

He felt a calloused hand cup his face. Tony swallowed hard as he couldn't deny the unspoken command to meet the former Marine's concerned gaze. "Tony," Gibbs softly called to him. "Look at me, son."

Tony obeyed despite the feelings of embarrassment and shame that were beginning to devour him. He had failed them all and now he was going to had to admit his failures; his life would now be an open book for all to read. "It's…too hard," he rasped.

"What is?" Gibbs gently pressed.

"Remembering."

"I know it is," the team leader empathized. "I've been there; I know the frustration and the uncertainty that you're feeling, but eventually, you have to take that leap of faith. I promise I'll catch you."

"I let you down," Tony whispered. "I…let myself down."

"No, you didn't. You survived and I can't ask for anymore than that."

Pulling free of the other man's hold, Tony fell back against the cushion and raked his hands through his hair. He didn't realize that he was pulling his hair until he felt Gibbs carefully prying his fingers free. "What did I tell you about that?" the former Marine quietly chastised.

"Sorry. I forgot," he sheepishly replied.

"Just don't forget again."

He heard the sound of the sirens growing louder as the rescue vehicles sped by Gibbs' house. He tried to pull his sporadic thoughts together but his mind kept wandering back to Jenny Shepard and her betrayal. Once again, he had been her pawn in a game that he had not consented to play and now that she was dead, Tony couldn't help but feel relieved that he would no longer be subjected to her whims. Maybe something was wrong with him because he couldn't feel any remorse for her, but he truly believed that she didn't deserve his sympathy.

"Tony?" Gibbs shook his shoulder, startling him out of reverie.

The young man sighed, wondering when he would stop flinching at every touch; was he ever going to be the man that he used to be? The events of the past year had changed him and up until now he had managed to keep the haunted memories somewhat at bay, but he had no choice but to acknowledge them.

"You with me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm with you, Boss."

"You said you remembered everything."

"Yeah, I do," Tony reluctantly admitted.

"Take your time."

Tony knew that time really wasn't a luxury that he had. Jenny Shepard was dead and more than likely, he would be next. The one thing that he could succinctly remember was the distinguished voice whispering in his ear that his usefulness had expired and his days were numbered; it hadn't been long after that he had killed one of his tormentors and escaped.

Nervously licking his lips, he forced his mind to block out his emotions as he began to recall his captivity and his subsequent months on the streets. "I…um…hadn't been undercover long as Todd Gibbs and I…uh had made contact with the dealer several times managed to convince him that I wasn't anything more than a homeless guy strung out on drugs and booze. I was supposed to meet him one night to seal a deal and the next thing I know…" Tony took a deep breath. "I woke up in this room and it was completely dark."

"Was it this Steve that grabbed you?"

"I think so. I really didn't see who grabbed me. That part's still kind of fuzzy."

"It's all right," Gibbs said. "You're doing fine."

"Anyway," Tony continued. "Like I said, I woke up and I couldn't see. I figured out I was blindfolded, but I also could tell that the room was dark. I was uh…strapped to some kind of table and I remember yelling for help." His forced grin didn't reach his tired eyes. "You know how uncomfortable I am with awkward silences or maybe McGoo's right and I like the sound of my own voice," he teased. Clearing his throat, he pressed on. "No one came for what seemed like a long time or at least it seemed like a long time, but of course I didn't have my watch so I don't know."

Tony was aware that his weak attempt at weaving in humor in his recollection was probably not completely unexpected, but doing so seemed to help him to organize his thoughts and stay focused. Although Gibbs didn't seem to mind his periodic one-liners, he easily sensed that Gibbs was silently urging him to continue with his story.

"Who finally came?"

"Steve started coming first and started playing his games. I didn't see his face for a long time; he seemed to get enjoy the fact that he could…hurt me and I'd never see the blows coming. He came about three different times before he spoke more than two words and then he started asking me my name. I kept my cover name of Todd Gibbs, but he kept beating me and…insisting that my name was Tony DiNozzo and that I worked for NCIS."

He could feel every blow that Steve had delivered to his aching body. The restraints had prevented him from protecting himself and too weakened by the repeated assault, Tony had simply been forced to lie there, wondering when the pain would stop. Although he was no longer confined in his prison; it was difficult to enjoy his freedom when his memories were still mercilessly haunting him.

"I never would admit to being Tony DiNozzo and I remember him jerking my blindfold off and grabbing me by the head and kept repeatedly slamming it down on the table," he quietly recalled. "That was when I discovered that Steve had a rather extensive vocabulary of colorful metaphors." Tony blew out a pent up breath. "God, he was a mean bastard."

Gibbs gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You need to take a break?"

Tony shook his head. "No, I'm okay. I would like something to drink besides water."

The team leader nodded at Abby, who seemed grateful for something to do. Tony hated the fact that he was subjecting his friends to his agonizing memories and wished that Gibbs would just tell Abby and Palmer to leave. It was barely a minute before she had returned with a glass of tea. Nodding his thanks, he took the glass with two hands and took a sip of the cool liquid. "Thanks, Abs."

"You're welcome," she soothed. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No. I'm fine." Tony gave the glass to Gibbs who set it down on the coffee table. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he considered his next words. "That was the first time that he injected me with something. I never figured out exactly what it was; all I know was that I felt like I was on fire inside and out. I think that was the first time that I cried. I've never felt such incredible agony in my life, Gibbs. I begged for him to do something to stop the pain and he said that all I had to do was tell him my real name.

"I guess that I was still thinking that I had to maintain my cover and I wouldn't give in." Tony began to massage his temples, knowing that his effort to ease the pounding in his skull was useless. "All I could think about was how bad I was hurting; I…I just wanted it to stop, I just…"

He closed his eyes, wishing that the memories of his captivity would simply disappear. If only Gibbs would just give him permission to forget again; then he wouldn't have to relive the shame and humiliation that his torturers enjoyed inflicting upon him. Keeping his eyes squeezed shut, he pressed on.

"I didn't give in though; I kept fighting. Everyday it was the same thing. Hours of getting the crap beaten out of me and then shot up with some kind of drug. Every time Steve shot me up, I got sick. He finally released me from the table and threw me on the floor and I threw up until all I could do was lay there and listen to him tell me how worthless I was. I'd lay their in my vomit and listen to him scream at me. There would be times that he would laugh because I had messed on myself. I would try not to eat or drink a lot, but he would force me and then…I guess you get the picture."

"He was trying to break you by humiliating you," Gibbs explained.

"I still fought him." Looking up, he met Gibbs' compassionate gaze. "You've got to believe me, Boss. I fought him with everything I had."

"I know you did, Tony. I know you did."

Satisfied that the former Marine believed him, Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I wasn't sure if…well, you know…"

"Tony, I know you and I know that despite what you think, you never gave up. You fought and you survived."

He wasn't sure that he completely agreed with Gibbs' assessment. Yes he had survived, but only because he _had_ given up hope that anyone was coming to rescue him; he had resorted to living the life of a drunken homeless man in order to stay in the shadows and out of the clutches of the man he now recognized to be Trent Kort.

Tony pressed the palm of his hands against his eyes, forcefully stopping the tears that wanted to escape. "Why did this happen, Gibbs? What did I do to deserve this?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, DiNozzo."

He dropped his hands and glared at the team leader. "Yes I did!" he roared. "I believed their lies! I believed them when they told me you weren't looking for me anymore! I lost faith in myself and I lost it in you!"

Gibbs remained silent as he processed these revelations. Tony could no longer look the older man in the eyes. His cheeks flushed crimson as he realized how much that his admission cost him. How could things ever be the same between them again? Would Gibbs ever be able to trust him again?

"But I haven't lost faith in you, Tony," Gibbs emphatically declared. "I haven't lost faith in you."

Heart wrenching sobs erupted from deep within his soul as Gibbs' strong arms encircled his trembling frame. No longer embarrassed by his feelings, Tony cried even harder as his emotions came crashing down upon him in waves as he struggled with accepting his mentor's words. Gibbs hadn't lost faith in him despite everything; he didn't understand how the man holding him could accept him for all his faults when no one else seemed to be able to do so.

He wasn't sure how long had passed before he was able to speak again. Tony didn't offer to move from what his safe haven while he continued to tell his story.

"I finally…had to tell them who…I was, but they knew," he reluctantly proceeded, brushing his tears away with his hand. "I couldn't take it any more."

"It was a play to show you who was in control."

"There wasn't a doubt in my mind who was in a control at that point," Tony whispered. "It sure wasn't me. Like I said before, I didn't even have control over going to the bathroom; I'd lay in my own filth for days at a time until Steve came in with several buckets of water and throw on me. Then Kort would…" He swallowed hard. "He wanted to know about the file that the Frog kept on him. I don't know why he thought I knew anything about it."

"Maybe he thought that when La Grenouille realized his life was in danger and that you were an NCIS agent, he confided in you."

"Well, he didn't. Kort never believed me; he just kept telling Steve to figure out more creative ways of making me talk and he did. Of course the thought of not being rescued was worse than any kind of physical torture; I guess that's when I realized that if I was ever going to get away, I'd have to do it on my own."

"I would have found you, Tony," Gibbs guiltily insisted. "I would have never stopped looking."

"I know that now. I wasn't thinking too straight back then. They kept my mind so muddled with drugs I couldn't even tell what was real and what wasn't. Kort could get his hands on some pretty nasty stuff."

"Was Jenny ever there?"

Tony shrugged. "I never saw her but I remember hearing her voice. Kind of like Kort; heard but not seen. Steve's face was the only one I ever saw, but I'll never forget Kort's voice."

"You've already told me about your escape. What happened after that?"

"I ran and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in some alley. I couldn't remember anything except that my name was Todd Gibbs and I was in a lot of trouble. At first, there was this one guy that kind of took me in, shared his box and his bottle; he ended up with his throat slit. That's when I decided not to stay in one place for too long.

He pulled away and wrapped his arms around himself. "I was scared. A lot of times, things would start to come back to me and my heart would start pounding; drinking was the only way I could forget. I got to the point where I'd do anything for a drink."

Tony captured his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it on it, reflectively studying what his life had become while he had lived on the streets. "Some of it was honest, some of it wasn't. Sometimes I'd get an odd job, sometimes I'd steal, and sometimes I'd…do other things. As long as I had that drink, nothing else mattered." He glanced over at Gibbs who had remained firmly planted by his side. "Truthfully, I'd kill for one now."

"You don't need it," Gibbs reminded him.

"My body knows that but my mind says something totally different."

"The urge to drink is something you're going to struggle with for a long time, but don't forget that I've got your six. All of us do," Gibbs added.

"I know, Boss. It's just that…sometimes everything becomes too much. I know I'm not making any sense, but…"

"I understand, Tony. When it gets to be too much, you let me know."

Tony nodded his thanks as he lay over on the couch. Warmth began to immediately encompass his exhausted frame after Gibbs covered him with the afghan that had been draped over back of the couch. He pulled the cover up under his chin, lifting his head slightly so that Abby could sit down on the couch. Laying his head on her lap, he remained motionless while she absently ran her long, delicate fingers through his hair.

As he drifted off, he exhaled slowly allowing the stress to ebb from him. His excess fatigue was forcing him to embrace slumber's open arms despite his fear of sleeping. Tony knew that once he gave into the darkness that was beckoning him, that the dreams would once again return and he would be powerless to stop them.

Tony had spared the others the sordid details of what he had been subjected to, but in time, he would have to reveal them as well. There wasn't a doubt that Gibbs knew that he had left things out of his recollection, but the team leader had not pushed him and for that he was grateful. One day, maybe he would be able to talk about all his pain and suffering but for now, he was content to let those memories stay buried for a little while longer.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Gibbs didn't offer any protest when Tony lay over on his couch; the young man was truly spent and although DiNozzo hadn't revealed every detail of his captivity, he had said enough to know that his son was indeed a survivor. He wasn't sure if Tony would ever reveal the more disturbing factors of his torment, but if he chose to do so, the team leader was willing to listen. Gibbs knew from experience that some memories are best laid to rest.

He covered Tony with the afghan his grandmother had made for him as Abby slid underneath the senior field agent's head and began fingering his hair. As DiNozzo's eyes closed, Gibbs found himself hoping that Tony's sleep would be peaceful and that he would be able to truly rest; he deserved to have a few hours of slumber undisturbed by the frequent nightmares of his past.

Glancing at his watch, he had an hour before he had to meet Kort. His anger at the CIA operative was indescribable as Tony's description of his time in the clutches of the diabolical man echoed in his mind. There was no way that he was going to let Kort's crimes go unanswered.

"Keep an eye on him," he instructed Abby. "I'm going to call Ziva and have her come over."

"Why?'

"Protection," he answered as he surveyed his own weapon to make sure that it was loaded.

"Protection?" Abby inquired. "You don't think Kort is coming here, do you?"

"Nope."

"Then why…"

"Abs, I don't have time right now." He held his hand out to Palmer, who stood there confused as to what Gibbs was silently requesting.

"He wants your cell phone, Palmer," she informed the ME assistant.

"My phone?" Palmer repeated. "But why do you…never mind."

The ex-Marine's infamous glare silenced Palmer as he gave him the cell phone. Not taking the time to explain to the young man that his phone was still in his vehicle, he called Ziva and within seconds had instructed her to get to his house as soon as possible. Gibbs hung up and glanced at his watch and knew that with the way that the Mossad officer drove that she would be at his house in ten minutes.

Gibbs went from room to room, securing the windows and occasionally peering out them to make sure that he didn't see anything unusual. The scene of the explosion had been quickly cleaned up and there were no traces of anything unusual ever happening. Kort believed in covering his tracks and he had done exactly that with Jenny's demise. Now the CIA operative had only one loose end and that was Tony. Gibbs was not going to let Kort get his blood stained hands on DiNozzo and if he had to die to protect his son, then it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.


	32. Chapter 32

**Another busy week, so sadly, only one chapter got updated. Gibbs versus Kort and Papa Bear at his best, so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for all your continued support and loyalty! I have the best readers! **

**Chapter 33**

Many considered Jethro Gibbs to be stoic, unflappable, and a force to be reckoned with; he wondered what those people would say if they saw him now. He was sitting on the concrete stairs, staring at the door that led to the ghostly remnants of Tony's tortured cries. The team leader had not been able to enter that room knowing the pain that had been mercilessly inflicted upon his senior field agent. If he were honest with himself, all he wanted to do was to run away and never look back at the nightmare of this past year.

DiNozzo had finally been able to recall most of what had happened to him but Gibbs knew that Tony had managed to omit some of the more sordid details. He realized that in order for the young man to truly begin to heal, he would have to acknowledge those memories and deal with them before they managed to consume him. If only he could do the same.

Just hearing some of what Tony had been subjected had been enough to turn his stomach; he couldn't imagine how DiNozzo managed to live through such indescribable hell and maintain his sanity. "How'd you do it, Tony?" he mumbled to himself.

"He's a formidable opponent. It took a lot to break him."

Gibbs visibly tensed at the sound of Trent Kort's familiar accent; this was the man ultimately responsible for nearly destroying DiNozzo's life. The team leader purposefully ignored Kort's jibe, knowing that he had to maintain a calm appearance, although the fire burning within him was spiraling out of control.

"So tell me," Kort pressed, obviously nonplussed by the former Marine's lack of emotion. "How is Agent DiNozzo doing?"

"He's fine," Gibbs icily replied.

The sound of Kort's laughter made him shudder. "I doubt that, Agent Gibbs. It will be a long time before Agent DiNozzo is _fine, _but you already know that; he doesn't bounce back as quickly as he used to. Of course, I can't take full credit for that," Trent declared. "Getting caught up in Director Shepard's private war can really wear a man down."

"She underestimated him. Just like you did."

"Why do you believe that _I've_ underestimated Agent DiNozzo?" Kort wanted to know.

It was Gibbs' turn to smile. "Because he's still alive. Despite everything that you did to him, he's still alive."

"I guess that something can be said for sheer stubbornness."

"Or the will to live."

"Call it what you want to Agent Gibbs," Kort conceded. "Just so you know, I could have had your agent killed several times over."

"Why didn't you?"

Kort shrugged. "There really wasn't a need. He started living his life as Todd Gibbs and got lost in a bottle. I figured that I didn't have a lot to worry about. There wasn't a need for anymore blood shed as long he couldn't remember anything."

"But now?"

He watched as Kort stood up and opened the door to the basement. "I guess that depends on how much of his memory has returned," Trent answered. "You were never supposed to find DiNozzo; so I guess you could say that you're the one who has placed his life in jeopardy again."

"I never stopped looking for him."

"I know. Director Shepard often spoke of your obsession with finding him; I think it made her nervous."

"I really didn't care how she felt about what I was doing," Gibbs growled.

The former Marine found Kort's smile as irritating as his laughter. "Obviously. I think that you and I are more alike than either of us care to admit."

Gibbs was tired of playing games with the CIA operative; he wanted answers and he wanted them now. As long as Kort remained a threat to Tony's life, he would not let his guard down. "I didn't come here to exchange insults; I came here to find out what the hell is going on and why you..." The team leader took a deep breath and blew it out as he attempted to force DiNozzo's recollection of his captivity to the back of his mind.

"Why what, Agent Gibbs?" Kort taunted.

"Why Tony?" he blurted out, trying desperately to rein in his tumultuous emotions.

"I had to know if La Grenouille told him anything about me or about the operation that I was about to take over. Secrets in the wrong hands make dangerous enemies."

"So you think torturing him was the only way to get those answers?"

"Sometimes I have to use whatever means necessary to get what I want," the CIA agent grinned. "Sometimes those means are not always pleasurable."

The team leader felt the knot in his gut pull even tighter. Kort demonstrated no remorse for what he did to Tony and that realization alone was enough to fuel his anger until it was now rivaling a blazing inferno. "Do you have any idea what you did to him?"

"_I_ actually didn't do anything to him, except ask him a few questions."

"Of course not," Gibbs seethed. "You didn't want to get your hands dirty." He pushed himself up and was now face to face with Kort. "You may not have physically hurt Tony, but what you did to him was just as bad."

"And what exactly did I do to him?"

Gibbs shook his head, refusing to rise to Kort's bait. "I'm not going there with you. What I want to know is was it worth it? Did you get the answers you were looking for? I certainly hope so; I want you to be able to think about those answers for the rest of your life while you're rotting away in prison."

"I'm not going to prison," Trent stated, arrogance dripping from his words like venom.

"We'll see about that," Gibbs vowed.

"If you're thinking that Agent DiNozzo is going to be the one to put me away, I'd think again."

He refused to answer, letting his silence speak for him. There was no doubt in his mind that Kort would pay for what he did to Tony; he would not let atrocities inflicted upon DiNozzo go unpunished. "When I found Tony, I made a promise to myself that I would discover who hurt him and make them pay."

"And poor Steve did pay with his life," Kort pointed out. "And I'll remind you, it was by Agent DiNozzo's hand that he died."

"Self defense."

"You can probably make that claim but it would never stick up in court, at least not in any of the courts that I know of; Steve was brutally murdered and DiNozzo's DNA is everywhere. Truthfully, DiNozzo probably wouldn't even make it to court; I have a feeling that he would be taken out before he could testify."

Gibbs shoved Kort against the way, his arm firmly pressing against the man's throat. "If I ever hear you threaten my agent again, I will personally take _you_ out and I promise that no one will find your body."

"You should…have let DiNozzo stay…dead," Trent gasped. "He was safer."

"He's safe now."

"No, he's not. The only way that he will stay…alive is if you…listen to me!"

He was forced to back away from Kort; his fists and jaw were both clenched as he struggled against the urge to kill Trent Kort with his bare hands. "You've got ten seconds to give me one reason that I should believe you," Gibbs warned.

"Because it's the truth."

"Your whole life is a lie, Kort," the agent challenged. "You wouldn't recognize the truth if it bit you in the…"

"Back to hurling insults, Agent Gibbs? You're wasting my time."

"I want answers Kort, and I want them now."

"I don't know how many answers I can give you, but I can offer you a deal you can't refuse."

"A deal with the devil?" he shot back.

It didn't escape the team leader's notice that Kort was attempting to subtly maneuver himself to gain access to the stairs prompting Gibbs to take a step back and purposefully block the other man's path.

"Don't look at it as a deal with the devil," Kort countered. "Think of this as the only way to ensure that Agent DiNozzo stays alive."

"I just told you that it would probably be in your best interests not to threaten him. He's been through enough, thanks to you and your friends; I won't let you hurt him again."

"Do you honestly think that you can protect him? I've already proven that I can get to him anywhere and anytime. If you don't believe me, consider poor Director Shepard; she never saw it coming and neither will Agent DiNozzo."

"Bastard," he growled, his hatred for Kort now rivaled DiNozzo's. "I'm listening."

Gibbs watched with trepidation as Kort motioned him inside the basement. "Let's go in here where we can talk in private," the CIA agent quietly demanded.

"You can say what you have to say standing right where you are."

"What are you afraid of, Agent Gibbs? Do the shadows speak to you? Do you hear him calling your name?"

"Talk now or I'm going public with this."

"Now, that would be a huge mistake; youwould be the one signing your agent's death warrant."

The former Marine sat back down on the steps, knowing that keeping his distance from Kort was the only way to ensure that he didn't tear him apart with his own hands.

"I thought you'd see it my way," Trent gloated.

Gibbs remained impassive to Kort's taunts; he was more than ready to get the pieces to the missing puzzle that had been plaguing him ever since DiNozzo's return. His gaze followed Kort as the operative began to pace back and forth.

"I must preface this particular conversation by saying that Agent DiNozzo is a lot stronger than either I or Director Shepard gave him credit for," Kort began.

"Why was Jenny there?" Gibbs asked.

"Because of her hatred for La Grenouille," Kort replied. "She was as convinced as I was that La Grenouille had confided in Agent DiNozzo. The old man seemed rather impressed by DiNozzo and judging by several entries in Rene's private journal, he believed that his secret was safe with the man who had both captured and broken his daughter's heart."

"And what secret would that have been?"

"I don't know. I never could get him to talk about Rene Benoit and what transpired after his car exploded. He gave me no choice but to try and break him and I was successful, or at least I thought I was. I never would have thought that he would fight back hard enough to kill Steve."

"There's obviously a lot you don't know about him."

"Obviously.''

"Did Jenny condone the torture?" he quietly inquired, uncertain if he wanted to hear the truth.

"Let me put it this way; she didn't protest. She believed that perhaps the secret that DiNozzo supposedly knew pertained to her father and she was as desperate to find out if Agent DiNozzo was hiding anything. We were driven by the same cause but we were expecting totally different results."

"Did you ever intend on letting Tony go?"

"No, but like I said, once he escaped and I was assured that he had no idea who he was, I decided just to, how do you say, lay low and keep and eye on him. Truthfully, if he hadn't of killed Steve, Agent DiNozzo would have died a painful death."

"Guess it's a good thing that he escaped, huh?" Gibbs seethed.

"You could say that. Of course, now he could possibly have a murder charge hanging over his head and we all know how the courts and the media love to get a hold of murdering cops. I know you've seen the body; DiNozzo mutilated it and there are going to be a lot of questions and more than likely an investigation and possibly a hearing. Do you really want to put him through all that?"

Gibbs knew all too well what DiNozzo would have to face and he couldn't imagine having the young man suffer any more than he already had; but he also knew that Tony wasn't one to back away from doing right. The team leader was also aware that DiNozzo's time in captivity had changed him and he didn't feel remorse for killing Steve; Tony had been more worried about Gibbs would think of him than the consequences for taking the life of someone who had inflicted such unbelievable agony on him.

"What do you want?" he finally asked Kort.

"I want to talk to Agent DiNozzo."

He shook his head vehemently. "That's not going to happen."

"Then I can't guarantee his safety."

"I've got Tony's back. You won't kill him like you killed Jenny."

"I didn't kill her; it was her own arrogance that ultimately destroyed her. She was a dangerous threat that had to be eliminated. Agent DiNozzo is still perceived as a threat as well…"

"A threat?" Gibbs couldn't believe the words that were coming from Kort's lips. He stood up and intentionally blocked Kort's path. "He's not a threat to you or your precious organization! If I find out that you've been anywhere near Tony, there won't be enough letters for you to hide behind to save your ass."

"Let me talk to him," Trent insisted, clearly unperturbed by Gibbs' warning. "You can be in the room with us. You won't regret it."

"Give me one reason why I should do this."

"Because I have one more question that needs answered and once I'm done, I'll make sure that he's safe and no one can touch him; I can make this nightmare disappear."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

Gibbs shuddered as a feral grin danced on Kort's lips. "Secrets of the trade, Agent Gibbs; secrets of the trade."


	33. Chapter 33

**I hope everybody is getting everything done for the holidays. I'm so far behind, it's not even funny. Thank you all for being so patient with me between posts; the craziness has to slow down sometime, right? Again, my deepest appreciation for my readers and those who take time to review; I consider myself truly blessed by your loyalty. Hope you enjoy the post. A little extra long as a reward for waiting so patiently! Enjoy and if I don't get a chance to post again before next week; I hope that everyone has a wonderful holiday season! Stay safe and warm!**

**Part 34**

Tony DiNozzo's slumber had been interrupted by the uneasy feeling that he was being watched. He kept his eyes closed as he listened to his surroundings; the ability to feign sleep had saved his life on several occasions when he had been living on the streets. After a few seconds, he quickly realized that he wasn't in danger and that he was listening to the voices of people who actually seemed to care about him. Tony easily recognized the hushed voices of Abby and Palmer and now, the distinctive melodic tone of the one called Ziva, had joined in the nearly inaudible conversation.

They were talking about him. Tony was convinced that they could have found a better topic of conversation. He was tired of being the center of attention and would be more than content to disappear under the blanket that was neatly tucked around his tall frame. Didn't they realize that he was tired of being the object of everyone's pity and worry? Why couldn't his life be normal again? He wanted to figure out who he was supposed to be but having to constantly live up to his past was exhausting; Tony DiNozzo had changed and no one, with the possible exception of Gibbs, seemed to able to accept the difference.

He rolled over to face the back of the couch in an effort to escape the present cacophony of voices that hummed in his head. The voices faded and temporarily ceased until they were clearly satisfied that he was still asleep. Within seconds of the confirmation, a soft buzz emitted from the trio as they lowered their volume until he could no longer hear what they were saying.

Tony had stopped caring about what people said about him a long time ago. He had been called a lot of names, each one worse that the last, but it no longer mattered; people were entitled to their opinions and he couldn't fault them for expressing them. The only person whose opinion that he had placed any value in was that of Gibbs, who had managed to earn both his respect and gratitude. Tony silently wished that the team leader had not left him under the watchful eye of Abby, Palmer, and Ziva. He felt trapped and he had to fight the instinct to flee.

Didn't they realize what they were doing to him? No longer able to stand the scrutiny, Tony flung off the blanket , shot up off the couch and headed towards the basement.

As he reached for the doorknob, Ziva steeped in front of him and placed herself between him and the door. "Tony? Are you all right?" she inquired.

"I'm fine," Tony curtly replied. His nerves were on edge and he was too tired to disguise his annoyance with his designated baby sitters.

"Are you sure?"

"I said I was fine," he repeated, the irritation in his voice reflective of the frustration he was experiencing at the moment.

"Why don't you come over here and join us?" Ziva suggested.

"No thanks. I just want to be by myself for a while."

Tony flinched when Ziva placed her hand on top of his. "Maybe you should eat something first."

He jerked his hand free, uncomfortable with the unexpected physical contact. Although he knew this woman was someone he knew and should trust, Tony still was unsure of where she fit into the puzzle that had become his life. "Maybe you should just leave me alone," he sharply countered.

His blunt retort had rendered the Mossad officer speechless and had rallied Jimmy and Abby to join her. Ziva met his hardened gaze, her own eyes possessing a gentleness that caught him off guard. "Tony," she began, "I didn't mean…"

"Forget it," he sighed. "I'm just a little on edge."

"That's understandable," Abby empathized as she gently squeezed his shoulder. "But do you really think you should be alone? Why don't we go raid Gibbs' kitchen and see what we can find to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"But…"

"Please, Abs; I just need you guys to back off," he pleaded. The desperation that was beginning to overwhelm him was evident in his voice. "Go back to the living room and you guys can resume your discussion about me without worrying about waking me up."

The three colleagues looked as if they had all been caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. "We were just…"

He waved off Abby's explanation. "It doesn't matter, Abby." Tony opened the door that would lead to the basement and began his descent down the stairs. "Tell Gibbs where I'm at when he gets back," he called back over his shoulder.

Tony realized that he had forgotten to shut the door but figured that Abby or Ziva would probably just insist that the door stay open so they could get to him quickly should he do something irrational. Little did they realize that he had considered ending his life every day since his captivity; he would often dream of ways to die but his desires stayed in the shadows of his nightmares. Perhaps that was why he started drinking. Tony knew that drinking would eventually kill him and if it hadn't been for a twist of fate and a dead sailor, he would probably be dead by now.

He sat down on the bottom step and raked his hands through his tousled hair. Tony found himself wondering if he had always been confused about the direction of his life or if he was just confused because of the blanks in his memory. Although, he had remembered the details of his captivity, there was still a lot of time that had been unaccounted for that he had more than likely spent in a drunken stupor.

Disgusted, he pushed himself up off the steps and grabbed the broom from the corner and began to sweep; he still had a huge mess to clean up from his previous fit of rage that had resulted in the destruction of Gibbs' boat. He wasn't sure how long he had been working when he heard the front door open and close which hopefully indicated the arrival of Gibbs. Tony hadn't been thrilled at the aspect of the team leader meeting with Kort but he had been unable to deter the man from meeting with the operative.

The muffled sound of voices drifted down the stairs; he could only begin to imagine Gibbs' reaction to Ziva's explanation as to why he was in the basement. Tony knew that the former Marine would understand his need for peace and would not condemn him for wanting to be away from prying eyes. It was just another minute before he heard the door open and close once again, followed by the unmistakable footsteps of Gibbs as he quickly made his way down the stairs.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked as he leaned against his workbench.

Tony shrugged as he continued to sweeping. "I'm fine."

"Ziva and Abby are pretty worried about you."

"They shouldn't be. I just got tired of being the topic of their conversation so I came down here."

"I can't blame you. They can be pretty overbearing."

"That's an understatement."

He sensed that something seemed amiss with Gibbs; a tension radiated off the older man that had not been present before his meeting with Kort. Tony couldn't shake the feeling that once again, his semi stable world was about to crashing down.

Setting his broom against the wall, Tony shoved his hands in his pockets to stop the slight tremble that still plagued him at times. "Are we through with the small talk yet?"

Gibbs tiredly smiled at him. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"So, what's up?"

"I talked to Kort."

"And?" Tony quietly pressed.

"He admitted to being involved in your kidnapping as well as having knowledge of your torture."

Tony closed his eyes tightly in an effort to keep his memories at bay. He was tired of having to relieve the pain and humiliation that he had been forced to endure at the hands of Kort and his friend. "So, did you arrest him?"

"No, not yet."

His eyes shot open, his emotive orbs narrowing into daggers. "What do you mean you didn't arrest him? He admitted to being involved in kidnapping a federal agent and you let him go?"

"I didn't say that either."

"I'm not in the mood for games, Gibbs," Tony warned.

"That's good, because you know that I don't play them."

"I'm beginning to wonder."

He regretted the words as soon as they escaped his lips. The last thing that Tony wanted to do was to hurt Gibbs; the team leader had put everything on the line for him and now he was repaying him with his doubt and anger. "I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "I was out of line."

"It's all right," Gibbs assured him. "I probably deserved that. You probably feel that you're being pulled in a hundred different directions and I'm not helping matters any."

Tony shrugged and cast his eyes to the floor. He really didn't want to meet the compassionate gaze of the one man who had literally saved his life. It was still difficult for him to accept that people wanted to be nice to him. "So, what else did Kort have to say?"

"He wants to talk to you."

He felt the life drain from his soul; the last person that Tony wanted to see was Trent Kort. "I don't have anything to say to him."

"Tony, I…"

"No!" he roared. "I don't have anything to say to him! Why would you think that I would want to hear anything that Trent Kort has to say? "

"Because you need to know why," Gibbs answered. "You need that closure."

He slid down the wall, taking time to contemplate what Gibbs was saying. Yes, he did want to know why he had been put through such hell, but he wasn't sure that he was strong enough to face his tormentor one more time. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and buried his head against his jeans. "I'm not sure it matters anymore," Tony whispered.

"I know that I'm asking a lot, but your safety could depend on it. I think you need to talk to him."

"My safety?" Tony questioned. He considered Gibbs' words for a moment before shaking his head. "I can't."

"Tony, I'll be right there with you; I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I swear it."

Tony leaned his head back against the wall. "What happens when you're not around?"

"I've got your back," Gibbs vowed. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You keep saying that."

"And I'll say it for as long as it takes for you to believe me."

Guilt washed over him as he realized that he had yet to allow himself to fully trust Gibbs. There were days that he didn't even trust himself; how could he open himself up and taking the chance on being hurt again without exhibiting a little bit of resistance? He knew that the old Tony trusted Gibbs with his life, but the new and not so improved Tony was reluctant to give up what little control he seemed to actually possess.

"Just keep saying it," Tony quietly insisted.

"I will."

Tony pushed himself up off the floor and brushed off the seat of his pants. "Let's get this over with. The sooner I do this, the soon I can move on with my life."

Gibbs gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and followed him up the stairs. He glanced back over his shoulder at the former Marine. "Don't you think this warrants a drink?" he teased.

"Nope, but I'll treat you to a cup of coffee when you're done."

"That's what I figured," Tony sighed.

He topped the stairs and opened the door, peering out into the open space of his living room. His stomach churned at the sight of the man who was responsible for the misery that he had been subjected to. Steve had been the one to actually carry out the torture, but Kort had been the one to provide the means. Making sure that Gibbs was directly behind him, Tony headed into the living room.

His eyes subtlety took in his surroundings, looking for items that he could possibly use as a weapon if the circumstances warranted necessary force. Tony had killed Kort many times over in his dreams and now, his dreams could literally become a reality. As if sensing his moral dilemma, Gibbs took a step closer to him, firmly planting himself by Tony's right shoulder.

"It's good to see you again, Agent DiNozzo," Kort greeted. "Or should I still address you as Todd Gibbs?"

Tony clenched his fists as he visibly bristled at the sound of Kort's voice. "What do you want?" he demanded to know.

"I was concerned about you; I just wanted to make sure that you're recovering from your ordeal."

"Cut the crap or we're done here," Tony coolly stated.

"Fine," Kort snorted. "I have a few questions to ask you and then depending on your answer, I may be able to cut you a deal."

"I find it hard to believe that I'm going to be interested in any deal that you have to offer. I've been on the receiving end of your 'good nature' too many times."

"You were never a gracious guest," Kort taunted. "You never appreciated my hospitality; you definitely proved that fact when you viciously murdered my colleague."

"He deserved to die."

"That's funny; he said the same thing about you."

Tony closed his eyes against the images that began to play in his battered mind. He couldn't let his memories have power over him; to do so would admit defeat and he was not going to let Kort claim the victory. Not this time.

"What do you want?" Tony forcibly repeated, his words punctuated by the tightness of his voice.

"Can we talk in private?" Kort inquired.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Gibbs."

"Ever still the loyal one, aren't you DiNozzo? When he says jump, do you say how high?"

"You're wasting my time."

Tony was grateful that so far, Gibbs had allowed him to handle everything that Trent had thrown his way; he had to fight his own battles or else he would never be able to stand on his own two feet. The past few months, he had used alcohol as his crutch but now he had nothing but a little bit of pride and a whole lot of determination.

"Very well," Trent sighed. "You look tired; do you want to sit down?"

"What I want is for you to quit stalling!"

"I would have thought that your patience would be substantially greater after everything that you've been through."

Frustrated, Tony turned on his heels and headed towards the basement door. "Call me when you're done playing games," he growled.

"I'm not playing games," Kort angrily countered.

"Oh, I forgot," seethed Tony as he whirled around to face Kort, "that was Steve's cup of tea, wasn't it?"

He pulled away when Kort reached out for him to guide him back to the living room. "Don't you ever touch me again or I will rip your arm off and feed it to you."

Tony didn't miss Gibbs' startled reaction to the unusual aggressiveness that he was being directed towards Trent. He wondered if the team leader had already forgotten that he had murdered a man with his own two hands. His temper, at best, was under a tenuous rein and the volcano that housed his rage could erupt without warning.

"I apologize, Agent DiNozzo. If you'll join me, I will begin to explain what it is that I want."

"It's about freakin' time," he mumbled.

"I have a couple of questions to ask you," Kort began. "And like I said, depending on your answers, we will see what your future holds."

He flopped on the couch and massaged his temples, silently willing his headache to abate. "Go ahead."

Trent cleared his throat and took the seat opposite Tony. "If you hadn't been so resistant during your captivity, this wouldn't even be necessary. Do you remember your undercover mission to flush out La Grenouille?"

Visions of a beautiful woman consumed his thoughts as snapshots of the two of them etched themselves in his memory. "Jeanne," he whispered.

"Jeanne is his daughter."

"We were seeing each other?"

"Yes, you were supposed to use her to find her father, but you ended up falling in love with her and…"

"She found out who I was."

"As did her father."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Thanks to you."

A smile escaped Kort's lips. "So you do remember?"

"Tell me what you want to know and I'll let you know exactly how much I remember."

"Fair enough."

He instinctively leaned back when Kort stood up; Tony still harbored the underlying fear that the other man was going to hurt him. The conflicting emotions that he seemed to harbor disturbed him. One minute, he was prepared to kill Kort and the next minute, he was scared of his own shadow. Would there ever be a day that he didn't feel like he was on an emotional rollercoaster. He was beginning to have his doubts.

Tony's eyes followed Kort as he began to pace. "Do you remember meeting Benoit?"

He nodded.

"Do you remember your car exploding?"

Wincing at the recollection of the explosion, Tony had to force his breathing to remain even. "Someone else was driving my car," he rasped.

"Yes and you, Jeanne, and the Frog sped off in the limousine. I need to know what you two talked about."

"He gave his statement to the Director," Gibbs interjected. "I'm sure that you have enough influence that you can get your hands on that."

Neither Tony nor Gibbs missed the fact that Kort's body tensed at the mention of Jenny's name. "There was nothing in his official statement that was of any use to me. I knew the Frog. He liked you Agent DiNozzo and I think that he confided in you more than you admitted to your former Director."

Tony scrubbed his face. "I don't know what you're talking about! If he told me anything, I don't remember!"

"Did he say anything about me?"

"I don't know!"

"Yes, you do! What are you hiding, DiNozzo?' He must have told you something or I would have already been able to move up in the ranks…"

Tony began to laugh. "Are you serious? You're supposed to be on our side!"

"Obviously you don't understand the ramifications of what it means to control…"

"Control? You really want to talk about control to me? I haven't had control of my life for a long time; in fact I can't remember the last time I actually felt in control!"

Kort turned to Gibbs. "Your boy has some issues, Gibbs. You better consider getting him some help before he become even more of a menace to society that he already is."

Tony didn't even give Gibbs a chance to respond. The young man's dark rage consumed him and in one swift motion, he was off the couch and straddling Kort on the floor. He could no longer hold back the demons that had been unleashed as his fists repeatedly made contact with Kort's face. He ignored the pleas from Kort as blood began to pour down his enemy's face. Kort had to pay for the screwed up mess that his life had become and with the deaths of Jenny and Steve, he was the only one left on which he could exact his retribution.

He was tired of Kort's mind games and he was determined to make sure that the operative received that message. Every time Tony drew his fist back to deliver yet another punch, he felt a feeling of power surge through him as Kort's blood covered his knuckles. His crimson covered hands encircled Kort's throat and Tony began to squeeze.

Tony could hear Gibbs' literally shouting at him, but he wasn't listening to what the team leader had to say. His gaze was focused on Trent as the man struggled to breathe; the sound of Kort gasping for air only inspired him to tighten his grasp. For the first time in a long time, Tony truly felt in control of his destiny.


	34. Chapter 34

Part 34

Gibbs' sharp gaze had remained fixed on Tony as he listened to Kort purposefully taunt the younger man. He was starting to regret his decision to allow Kort to talk to DiNozzo; at the time he felt that it was a necessary evil, but now, he wasn't so sure. The team leader could sense the rage that was starting to consume Tony and Trent Kort was skating on very thin ice.

When they started discussing La Grenouille and all the events that surrounded that particular fiasco; Gibbs couldn't help but recall how much that experience had changed DiNozzo, shattering the trust that he had in himself and in the agency. Tony had been a victim of Jenny's personal vendetta and was still suffering the consequences.

Tony was becoming frustrated because of his spotty memory and his temper was continuing to be fueled by Kort's overconfidence and arrogance. Kort was obviously enjoying tormenting DiNozzo and Gibbs was determined to put a stop to the game that the operative was playing. Unfortunately, Tony beat him to the punch, both literally and figuratively.

Although the words that were exchanged between Kort and DiNozzo were obviously leading up to a physical confrontation, he was still surprised by the swiftness of Tony's attack on Kort. There was a desperation in DiNozzo's assault that scared the former Marine; Tony was out for justice for all that had been done to him and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he deserved some kind of restitution.

Gibbs found himself almost enjoying Trent Kort"s pleas for him to do something to help him. As much as he would have liked to let Tony kill Kort, he knew that he couldn't let DiNozzo do something that he would regret the rest of his life. Blood was streaming from Kort's nose and mouth as Tony landed several punches to his face; the fury behind the assault was a testimony to the still fragile yet dangerous state of Tony's mind.

When Tony's hands encircled Kort's throat, Gibbs was aware that he didn't have much time to intervene. He grabbed Tony by the shoulders and pulled him off of Kort. Gibbs was amazed by DiNozzo's strength, his anger and adrenaline was feeding into his need for vengeance. The former Marine was forced to sling Tony's tall frame onto the couch, effectively pinning him against the back cushion.

"Easy, Tony!" he barked, his authoritative voice issuing an order that DiNozzo wouldn't dare disobey. The only problem was that Tony was still figuring out who he was.

"Get off me Gibbs!" Tony bellowed. "I've had enough of his game! Let me end it!"

"This isn't how you want it to end!"

"I've already killed once; what's one more body?" Tony glared at Kort who was had managed to sit up and brace his back against the wall. "At least I won't have to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."

"You will if you go to jail," Gibbs pointed out.

"I don't care!"

"Listen to yourself, DiNozzo; this isn't who you are!"

Gibbs still maintained his firm grip although Tony had stopped struggling; DiNozzo's harsh stare was now set on the team leader, a mixture of disbelief and resentment clouded his features. He didn't dare relax his grip; Gibbs could feel the tension radiating from within the dark haired man and he was completely aware of the fact that given the opportunity, Tony would strike out once again and this time he would make sure that Kort was dead.

"Yes it is!" Tony growled. "It's who I've become. He made me this way!"

"No! You're better than this! Tony, listen to me," Gibbs pleaded. "You can't stoop down to his level."

"Too late. I'm already there!"

Gibbs leaned closer until his face was mere centimeters from Tony's. He wanted to make sure that he had DiNozzo's attention. "I want you to listen to me."

Tony attempted to pull free from the team leader's firm grip. "Let me go!" he demanded.

"Not until I have your word that you're going to hear me out and stay calm! You need to get your head on straight."

After a few seconds, Tony nodded and Gibbs felt him relax slightly. He sat down on the couch next to DiNozzo, keeping a close eye on the agitated man just in case he needed to make himself a barrier between Tony and Kort, who was still sitting against the wall nursing his damaged throat.

Gibbs waited patiently for Tony to gather his thoughts. He wanted nothing more in the world than to assure his former senior agent that everything was going to be all right, but he couldn't do that. The team leader was not going to lie to DiNozzo; despite the fact that most of his memory had returned, Tony still had a long road ahead of him. He hoped that this meeting with Kort hadn't served as a setback for Tony's recovery.

"You all right?" he finally asked.

"Nope," Tony honestly answered. "How's Kort?"

"I think he'll live."

Tony scrubbed his face. "Only because you stopped me. If you'd let me kill him, the world would be a better place."

"Could you have lived with yourself?"

"Yep."

He wasn't expecting Tony's answer. Clearing his throat, Gibbs gave Tony's shoulder a light squeeze. "I don't think you mean that."

"I killed Steve and I've managed to make it so far. I definitely wouldn't lose any sleep over killing Kort."

"You killed him when you were someone else. Tony DiNozzo couldn't kill in cold blood."

Tony shrugged. "Maybe you don't know Tony DiNozzo as well as you think you do. Maybe I should go back to my life as Todd Gibbs; life was sure a lot simpler when I was living life as a drunk."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? I'm obviously not living up to your expectations of this Tony DiNozzo. I've tried, but the harder I try, the more I seem to screw up the image that everyone has of him. Do you know how frustrating it is to try to be someone and you still have no idea who he is? I know who I'm supposed to be; my memories tell me who I'm supposed to be, but I still don't know this person! Then Kort comes along and stirs up all these…these things that I'm supposed to remember but can't and I can't handle it anymore!"

"Tony, I…"

"I really don't want to hear it right now, Gibbs." Tony raked his hands through his hair. "Just give me a few minutes. Go check on Kort."

"He's fine," Gibbs repeated.

"I'm touched by your obvious concern," Trent snarled, his voice raspy from the earlier confrontation..

"Shut up, Kort."

"Snappy comeback, Gibbs. Did you…think of that all by yourself…or did your so called agent who supposedly has no…memory of his past come up…with that one?"

He grabbed Tony's arm, silently encouraging the younger man to not rise to Kort's attempt to bait him. "He obviously doesn't have the answers you're looking for."

"Perhaps he just doesn't want to remember."

"I think that maybe you better go and crawl back under the rock you slithered out from."

Gibbs could feel Tony's eyes boring into him. Despite all that Kort had done, he knew that the man had managed to cover his tracks and that it would be difficult to convict him. "You're going to let him go?" Tony asked, unable to disguise the anger and frustration that was all but consuming him.

"I have to," Gibbs answered.

"After all he's done?"

"Tony, I have to let him go. For now," he added. The former Marine was going to make sure that Kort paid, one way or the other; perhaps it was time for him to call in a favor or two.

"Is that a…threat, Agent Gibbs?" Kort wanted to know as the operative rose to his feet.

Ignoring Kort, he forced Tony to look at him; he wanted DiNozzo to know that he wasn't letting this go. "I've got your six, Tony. Please, trust me."

Tony shook his head. "Don't let him walk out that door, Gibbs," DiNozzo pleaded. "He'll disappear and we'll never see him again until he decides that he needs something else and…"

"Please, Agent DiNozzo," Kort interrupted. "Don't you think…you're being a bit…melodramatic?"

"No, I don't. If there's one thing I do remember is how you destroy people's lives."

Clearing his throat, Trent replied, "That may be true, but fortunately, my people know how to clean up a mess."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

Gibbs stood up, placing himself between Tony and Kort. He was aware of the fact that the longer Trent Kort remained in his house, the more tempted he was to allow Tony to finish what he started. "If you're going to leave, I suggest you do so, now."

Kort began to make his way towards the door. "I'm done for now; but I'm sure that we'll meet again."

He sensed that Tony was now standing beside him; DiNozzo's body was tense, his jaw firmly clinched. "Gibbs, please…"

"No, Tony. I'll take care of everything," Gibbs vowed.

Tony shook his head in disgust as he walked towards the kitchen. Gibbs knew that DiNozzo wasn't happy with his decision but he would explain his reasoning later; right now, he was asking Tony to trust him and despite all that they had been through the past few weeks, he realized that he was asking a lot. The sound of several drawers slamming and muttered curses emanated from the other room; he had to get rid of Kort so he could calm DiNozzo down before Tony completely lost faith in him.

"I hope you have your bourbon hidden, Agent Gibbs; it sounds like your boy could use a drink."

"You got what you wanted. Now, I want you to get out and stay away from Tony."

"I'll be back from time to time just to be sure that he doesn't remember anything and don't worry, he's safe. His life isn't in any danger." Kort smiled at the former Marine. "For now."

Gibbs closed the door behind Kort, relieved to be rid of the man who had caused DiNozzo such extreme mental anguish. He mentally head slapped himself for allowing Kort to talk to Tony; he should have listened to his gut. As he headed towards the kitchen, that familiar knot in his stomach began to tighten; something was definitely wrong. "Tony?" he called out.

The silent response did nothing ease his nerves. "Tony?"

He entered the kitchen to discover that Tony wasn't there. The back door was slightly ajar and the drawer that housed one of his spare guns was open. He swung open the door and peered outside. "DiNozzo!"

Knowing the Tony couldn't have gotten far, he ran outside and began to determine which way the younger man headed. Gibbs muttered a curse when he lost the trail at the sidewalk. As Kort began to turn down another street, he saw Tony running in an effort to keep up with the car. Darting back in the house, he grabbed his keys and dashed out to his car.

Quickly taking the route that Tony was heading, Gibbs began to look for anything that would lead him to the young man while silently praying that DiNozzo wouldn't do something that he would live to regret. "Come on, Tony, where are you?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

To say that Tony DiNozzo or whoever he was supposed to be was furious would be an understatement. How could Gibbs just let Kort walk out that door? If the older man hadn't interfered, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Trent Kort would be dead and he would finally be free.

Gibbs had asked him to trust him, but right now, he didn't even trust himself. How could he believe in himself when he was still struggling to fill in the missing pieces of his memory? He desperately wanted to be able to hold on to the hope that Gibbs was going to take care of Kort, but he had learned during his time on the streets that hope was often a dream that was out of his reach.

Maybe that was why he felt the need to take Gibbs' spare gun. He had stumbled across it accidentally; Tony had been agitated because of the events that had transpired in the living room and was looking for something to help soothe his frazzled nerves. In all actuality, he had been hoping for a bottle of whiskey but had discovered the gun.

He had studied the weapon for a few moments and then tucked it in his waistband. Tony's heart pounded as he considered the possibility of being able to finally end Kort's life so that he could be free of the nightmare that his life had become. Quietly opening the back door, he stealthily made his way around towards the front to where Kort was parked. Hiding in the bushes, he watched from behind a bush as his nemesis got in his car. All it would take would be one shot and Trent Kort would simply be a bad memory.

His hand hovered over the gun, his movement halted by the recollection of Gibbs' words echoing in his mind. The team leader had told him that he wasn't a murderer, yet he had willingly taken Steve's life without any remorse. Gibbs had promised to take care of everything, but he had refused to accept the former Marine's word. He knew that Tony DiNozzo would have never questioned Jethro Gibbs' ability to keep his word, but maybe it was time for Tony to think for himself.

As Kort drove off, Tony broke from the cover of the shrubbery and began to jog down the street, taking the same path Kort's vehicle traveled. He knew that he would never catch the other man on foot, but the physical exertion that he was exhibiting made him feel alive. He began to run faster, ignoring the biting of the metal against his flesh as the butt of the gun rubbed his lower back.

It didn't take long for him to lose sight of Kort but he refused to slow down despite the protest of his burning muscles. It felt so good to be free and away from the prying eyes of his former team members. He knew they meant well, but he was being smothered with their overprotective nature and unwanted assistance. He was alone and he for the first time since Gibbs had found him at the murder scene, Tony felt in control of his fate.

Sweat poured off his body in rivulets as his clothes stuck to his body. He no longer cared about his comfort, his only concern was escaping the past that seemed to haunt him at every corner. Tony started to weave in and out of alleys and down streets; he had no idea where he was going, but that no longer mattered to him.

A myriad of images began to flood his mind as the past attempted to mingle with the present. "No, no, no," he muttered. "Not now!" He tried to run harder, but it seemed like the faster he ran, the more confusing the memories became.

Tony was forced to stop running as his thoughts became more inundated with the memories of his life as Todd Gibbs. He bent over in an effort to catch his breath and ended up sitting on the curb. His raked his hands through his sweat soaked hair, trying to force his unwanted thoughts back into the box that they had escaped from.

Glancing around at his surroundings, he found himself in what appeared to be a less than desirable part of town. How far had he run? Gibbs was more than likely going to head slap him several times for this stunt. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Right now, he wasn't too worried about what the ex-Marine would do to him; he was free and in control of his actions.

Staring across the road, he felt a sense of déjà-vu as he read the sign on the run down building. "The Last Chance Bar," Tony whispered. One drink and all his problems would go away; at least that what he hoped would happen. Although he didn't have any money, surely he could find someone to buy him a drink. "Sounds like the place for me."

He slowly stood up and began to make his way across the street. Tony knew that he had been sober for a few weeks and that one drink could send him spiraling downward once again. Of course, on the other hand, nothing truly mattered when he drank; maybe he could simply forget about Trent Kort and the mess he had made of his life.

As he walked into the bar, he stopped in the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness and smokiness of the room. Tony slowly began to make his way to the bar, his nostrils inhaling the scent of cheap whiskey and stale beer.

"Hey Todd," the bartender called out. "Where ya been?"

Tony stared at the man behind the bar, taken aback by the fact that the older man seemed to know him. The bartender was at least in his late fifties, the hardness of the years evident on his leather skinned face. "Uh…I've been around," he finally managed to answer.

"Cat is going to be glad to see you."

Trying to place the name, he asked, "Cat?"

"You better not have forgotten Cat. She's your meal ticket around here. Cat still compares all her other customers to you; says that you gave her some of the best nights of her life."

Tony's cheeks began to flush with embarrassment as realization dawned upon him. Suddenly feeling out of place, he turned to go but found his path blocked by a scantily clad woman that he assumed was Cat; her flowing red hair accented her face as her piercing green eyes seemed to bore into his soul. Her cold hands cupped his face as she pulled him into a kiss, her tongue freely exploring his mouth.

He could taste the alcohol as he began to willingly return her fiery kiss. Not only was he craving the taste of cheap liquor, he was craving the affection that she seemed to be so willing to give him. When their lips finally parted, she gently fingered his bruised lips.

"Where've you been, Todd?" she inquired, the sound of her sultry voice made him shudder.

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you," he panted, wanting desperately to taste those lips once more.

"Maybe you can tell me over a drink."

"A drink?" Tony licked his lips in anticipation. "I…"

"I'm buying," she grinned. "I'm sure that you can find a way to reimburse me."

Tony swallowed hard as she took his hand and grabbed a bottle that the bartender had placed on the bar. Sex for alcohol; did he want to go down this path again? He had been ashamed that he had resorted to these tactics while he had lived on the streets, but soon the need for the alcohol had overcome his need to keep his integrity intact.

Was it worth destroying everything that he had worked so hard for in the past couple of weeks? He hoped that he managed to figure out the answer before he reached the point of no return and judging by Cat's sly expression, he would reach that point very quickly.


	35. Chapter 35

**Another chapter closer to the end! I apologize for the delay but between basketball, scouts, home, work, and everything else, my writing time has been sporadic but I finally got a chance to sit down and finish the chapter. Thank you all for your continued patience and loyalty…I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it was worth the wait! **

Tony stared at the bottle in front of him as Cat sat on his lap and playfully nipped at his ear. He had yet to take his first drink but he wasn't sure how much longer his resolve would last; every time Cat kissed him and he tasted the stale liquor on her lips, his determination slipped a little more. Why had he come in here? Was he truly that weak? How could he expect to start living again when he kept running back to his past?

He watched Cat fix him a drink as he continued to contemplate his situation; his mind was rampant with confusion and uncertainty, preventing him from discovering the answer that he was looking for. Tony shifted uncomfortably as the already inebriated woman straddled him and placed the glass against his lips.

"Come on, Todd," she coerced, her seductive voice fanning the flame of desire that was burning within him. "You know you want it; almost as much as you want me." With her other hand, she raked her hands through his already disheveled hair. "You do want me, don't you, Todd? I've missed you so much."

"I don't know what I want anymore," he admitted.

"Until you make up your mind, you can have me. Surely you didn't forget all the great times we had. We'd spend our days hitting every bar between here and Baltimore and then the nights, well I guess you know what we did at night." She caressed his face with her nicotine stained fingers. "You're the best I've ever had."

The scent of the cheap liquor was forcing him down a path that he wasn't sure he wanted to go down again but he felt powerless to stop his descent. As Cat tilted the glass, he felt the warm liquid trickle from his lips and down his chin; he licked his lips savoring the flavor of the tepid liquid. Tony wanted that drink now more than ever but he wasn't sure that it was worth risking everything that he had managed to accomplish in the past few weeks.

"No!" he suddenly cried out. "No more! Leave me alone!" Knocking the glass out of her hand, he roughly shoved Cat aside and stood up. Grabbing the bottle of liquor, he hurled it at the nearest wall and watched smugly as the glass shattered into a thousand different shards.

"Have you lost your mind?" Cat screamed at him in disbelief.

He stared at her, her eyes a reflection of what he had once been. Although he truly had no idea of who he wanted to be, Tony knew for certain that he didn't want to be a drunkard willing to whore himself out for a drink.

"I've got to get out of here," he mumbled to no one in particular. Tony wanted to escape before he landed in temptation's lair again; he doubted he had the strength to resist her bewitching ways again.

"What happened to you? You've changed."

Tony averted his eyes as the scantily woman fiddled with her low cut blouse in an effort to entice him. "Change isn't always bad," he pointed out.

"It is when it takes away who you are," she spat.

"When'd you have time to get your psychology degree?" he shot back.

"Hey!" the bartender bellowed as he made his way over to where Nick was still standing over Cat. "What's going on here?"

"He's lost frickin' mind!" Cat blurted out. "Shoved me in the floor and ruined a perfectly good bottle of whiskey. He's gone all do-gooder on me. I swear John, he's crazy!"

Trying to ignore Cat's rant, Tony turned to leave. He had no intention of standing around and listening to the woman question his mental stability; if he were honest with himself, he would more than likely probably agree with her assessment

Turning to leave, his departure was met with resistance as John roughly grabbed his arm. "Not so fast," the bartender growled. "You owe Cat an apology; not to mention, I'm going to have to be reimbursed for the bottle you so conveniently smashed against the wall."

His eyes narrowed; Tony's frazzled nerves were quickly reaching their breaking point. "I don't owe you anything," he countered as he jerked his arm free. "I suggest you get out of my way."

"Or what?" John challenged. "You too good to hang with us now?"

What little control Tony had managed to maintain came crashing down like an avalanche; his anger energized the wrath behind the punches that landed the bartender on his backside. He had intended on walking out the door but the other patrons seemed to be aching for a fight and rose to John's defense. He wasn't sure who threw the first punch but he had suddenly become the favored punching bag of several men in a drunken rage.

He tried to fend off his attackers but a well-placed kick to the groin forced him to curl in upon himself and collapse to the ground. He struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to fall as he attempted to breathe through the pain; the odds were not in his favor and Tony knew that he had to get out of the bar before he ended up dead...or worse.

_One of these days you're going to end up in the gutter._

Where had that thought come from? He muttered a curse; this was not the ideal time for his brain to decide that it was going to bless him with yet another supposed memory of his past. Tony could hear the man's voice in his head but it was one that he didn't recognize; maybe he would ask Gibbs if he ever got out of his current predicament.

He felt himself being jerked up off the floor and found himself face to face with the bartender; two other men had his arms pinned behind him. Tony swallowed back the bitter tasting bile as he closed his eyes against the spinning room.

"You started this and now you're going to have to pay for it," John bellowed. "I always said you were nothing but trouble; I guess Cat'll see what I'm talking about now."

"Let go of me," he slurred. Tony winced at the sound of his thick voice, but it was somewhat of a relief to know that his jumbled words weren't an aftereffect of alcohol; instead it was the constant agony and the blood trickling from his mouth that was making it difficult to speak.

"She should have left you in the gutter where she found you," the bartender continued his tirade. "She was desperate to get laid and you were desperate for a drink; I tried to tell her that you weren't worth it."

_One of these days you're going to end up in the gutter._

It was that voice again. He pulled free of the two men's grasp and covered his ears as he tried in vain to stop the myriad of voices in his head. Tony stumbled towards the door, his desire to escape overwhelming his ability to think rationally. Why had he been so stupid as to run away from the safety of Gibbs' home? Had his need to rid himself of Kort abolished all aspects of common sense?

Three gunshots in the air brought the bar to a standstill. "Police! Everybody freeze!" came the command.

Tony covered his head and dove for the ground, his battered body ignoring the sharp piercing jolts of pain that plagued him. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to look at the officers as they began to question the others in the bar. Tony had learned from experience that sometimes feigning ignorance meant survival.

"All right," the second officer began. "Who started it?"

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that every one in the bar would point their finger at him and he would soon discover that he wouldn't be disappointed in his assumptions.

"Todd started it," John declared. "He was giving Cat a hard time and I tried to step in; needless to say that one thing led to another and now my bar is destroyed."

Tony sensed someone standing over him and slowly opened his eyes. "My name's Officer Jenkins," the officer introduced himself. "Is what John said true?"

The injured man sat up and buried his face in his hands. "It doesn't matter."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause it's my word against all these other people."

"Yeah, but all these other people don't look like they've gone three rounds with Muhammad Ali," Jenkins observed.

"I just wanted to leave."

"Why didn't you?"

"I tried." Tony knew that his defensive tone would likely tick off the police officer but he was beyond caring about the consequences of his actions.

The policeman reached out his hand towards him. "Come on and get up off the floor."

Taking Jenkins' hand, Tony shakily stood to his feet. "Are you going to take me to jail?"

"Yes!" John shoved his way in between Tony and the officer. "I'm pressing charges!"

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Jenkins asked.

"I know my rights."

"I'm sure you do, but it's probably in your best interest not to press charges. A _reputable _establishment such as yours really can't afford the bad publicity."

"Bad publicity?"

"Yeah, the bad publicity you'll receive when this gentleman sues you for assault and battery."

"It was self defense!"

"I'm sure it was."

"He hit Cat!" John argued.

Tony swallowed back a wave of nausea as he met the officer's determined gaze. "Is that true?"

"I…shoved her. I just had to get out and she kept…" Tony leaned against the wall as he blew out a frustrated sigh. "Just forget it."

He heard another officer talking to Jenkins and Tony knew that he was more than likely going to be hauled into jail. Gibbs was probably going to kill him and he wouldn't blame the team leader at all for doing so, but he also knew that the former Marine was more than likely his only hope for getting out of this mess. He silently hoped that the police still allowed prisoners to make phone call.

A hand squeezed his shoulder causing him to inhale sharply. Tony was beginning to wonder if there was any part of his body that didn't hurt. "Are you all right, Agent DiNozzo?" Officer Jenkins wanted to know.

Tony was confused by the mention of his supposed name. "What?"

"My partner recognized you; he's going to try and get in contact with your boss."

"Just shoot me now," Tony groaned.

"Sorry. But apparently he's more afraid of Gibbs than he is of you. Let's get you out of here."

The two officers helped him out of the bar and over to the squad car. Tony managed to crawl into the back seat, nodding his thanks when Jenkins handed him a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face. "So are we heading downtown to wait for Gibbs?"

"Nope. Just waiting on your ride to the hospital."

Tony tried to get out of the car but the officer blocked his exit. "I'm not going back to a hospital."

"Take it easy," Jenkins urged. "The paramedics are just going to check you out."

"And they'll send me to the hospital," Tony scowled.

"If they think you need to go, I suggest that you go."

"I'm kind of tired of people telling me what to do."

He laid his head against the back of the seat, encouraging the beckoning darkness to envelop him; maybe when he woke up, all this would have been another bad dream and not a reflection of his stupidity.

"My partner went back in there and between him and the other officers, they'll smooth things over," Jenkins informed him.

"I don't need any more favors; I'm indebted to too many people as it is."

"You don't understand; we're the one's paying back the debt. Gibbs really helped out my partner a couple of years ago and he wants to return the favor. I was only a rookie at the time so I never had the pleasure of meeting you or Gibbs, but according to Parker, your Boss credited _you _with finding the evidence to clear my partner's name."

"Sorry," Tony sighed. "I don't remember."

"Yeah, we heard that your memory was still spotty after what happened during your last assignment. It'll come back in time."

"Who told you what happened?"

"Our chief heard it from Director Shepherd."

Tony started laughing. "Even dead, she's still screwing up my life."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing; it's not important."

Tony closed his eyes once again, knowing that despite his earlier need for rest that sleep would not befriend him any time soon. First he would have to satisfy the paramedics and then he would have to wait for Gibbs to come and read him the riot act. Maybe he should just beg Jenkins to take him to jail; maybe someone there would recognize him and put him out of his misery.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jethro Gibbs had never been so relieved in his life when he received the call that Tony had been found. Officer Mike Parker and his partner, Phil Jenkins had been summoned to bar fight and upon recognizing Tony, had called him immediately. Sometimes it was beneficial to have friends in the police department, especially ones that felt indebted to you for doing your job. He just hoped the other favor he had called in reached a quick resolution as well.

The fact that DiNozzo had been found in a bar was disturbing but he hated to admit that he wasn't surprised. Tony was seeking solace and he turned to the only thing that he knew would bring him the comfort he sought. Alcohol had been the one constant in his life for most of the last year; the one thing that he could always count on despite the adverse effects it had on his health.

He had expected too much, too soon. Parker had told him that Tony hadn't been drinking but that he had been roughed up; DiNozzo had managed to resist the temptation to take a drink but he hadn't been able to avoid the trouble that seemed to plague him everywhere he went. He hoped that Tony would still talk to him and allow him to make things right. If only he could turn back time, he would have simply taken care of Kort himself instead of subjecting Tony to the operative's purposeful torment that prompted this latest setback; he wasn't sure how many more of these setbacks DiNozzo could take.

He turned into the parking lot of the Last Chance Bar and pulled up beside the police cruiser. Gibbs had no idea what he was going to say to Tony but he was going to have come up with something that would convince the other man that everything was going to be all right and that he could still be trusted. Of course it was going to be difficult to persuade DiNozzo of this when Tony still faced so many obstacles in reclaiming his life. The team leader got out of his car and nodded a silent greeting towards Officer Jenkins.

"You must be Gibbs," Jenkins greeted. "You beat the paramedics here; Parker said that you would."

Ignoring the officer's attempt at meaningless banter, Gibbs worriedly inquired, "How's he doing?"

"He's pretty quiet; I think he's hurting pretty badly. He's trying to avoid the paramedics."

"That sounds about right," he mumbled to himself. "What happened?"

"We're still trying to piece it together but don't worry; we'll look out for your boy." Jenkins gestured to John and Cat who was talking to his partner. "We've had a lot of trouble out of these two for a while now."

Gibbs opened the back door of the police car and slid in beside Tony. DiNozzo's head was laid back against the headrest, his face marred with various cuts and bruises mingling in with the pronounced lines of fatigue that seemed to have permanently etched themselves in Tony's features.

"You look like hell, DiNozzo," Gibbs observed. He knew that his remark may have been a bit callous, but he was also aware of the fact that the young man, despite his sketchy memory, wouldn't want the former Marine to pull any punches.

"I guess that means that I look about as good as I feel," Tony slurred.

"The paramedics are on their way. You should let them check you out."

Tony shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Want to try again?"

"Nope; I said I was fine."

"You need to get checked out."

"Nope."

"Tony…"

DiNozzo met Gibbs' concerned gaze. "I'm fine," he insisted as he slowly sat up, wincing at the pain that the movement caused him.

"Yeah, you look fine," the team leader countered.

"I'm not going back to the hospital. I've had enough of them to last a life time."

He really didn't want to get into another war of wills with Tony but Gibbs knew that Tony needed to have his injuries looked at; it was time to suggest a compromise.

"Then let Ducky take a look at you," he suggested.

Gibbs could see Tony mentally weighing the lesser of two evils; he knew that Tony realized that having the kind hearted ME examine him was preferable than the alternative. "Fine," Tony acquiesced.

"I'll call him so that he's expecting you."

"Tell him to turn up the heat; last time I was there I about froze my butt off."

The older man smiled. "I'll be sure to pass the message along."

Tony sat motionless, his eyes cast to the floor. Gibbs wished that he could take the burdens that seemed intent on crushing the younger man and help bear them but convincing DiNozzo that he could handle them was a constant process. Even after all they had been through together the past few weeks, Tony still couldn't completely trust him.

"I didn't take a drink," Tony finally blurted out.

"I know."

"I wanted to; I could taste it on her lips."

"But you didn't and that's what's important."

"What about next time?"

"It's going to be an ongoing battle, Tony; but you don't have to fight it alone."

Tony shook his head. "You wouldn't say that if you knew what all I've done. Do you know that I used to whore myself out for a drink?"

Gibbs wasn't sure how to answer Tony's revelation. He had always had his suspicions but to hear DiNozzo confirm those fears was something that he wasn't sure he was ready to accept. He silently admonished himself for his thoughts; Tony was a survivor and he did what he had to do to survive and no one had the right to judge him for that, including him.

"It's in the past; you did what you had to do in order to live from day to day," Gibbs pointed out.

"I almost did it again tonight; who's to say that the next time I won't slip?"

"That's why you have friends," he answered. "We'll catch you if you start to fall."

DiNozzo pinched the bridge of his nose. The team leader could tell that Tony's was starting to consume him. "This is starting to feel like a Hallmark moment, Boss."

Gibbs grinned at the familiar moniker. "Well maybe we should just get you out here before we need to break out the tissues. Let's go and see Duck."

And after we see Ducky?" Tony wanted to know.

"We're going back to my house and we're going to have a long talk, DiNozzo."

Gibbs opened the door and got out of the back seat, extending his hand to Tony in case he needed any help. Under his own volition, DiNozzo finally joined him and the two men slowly made their way towards his vehicle. He noticed that Tony's movements were slow and painful, hidden bruises making it difficult for him to walk.

The team leader vowed to make sure that Ducky's examination was thorough; too many times this past year, Tony's well being had fallen through the cracks because of lack of medical care. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ducky would take good care of Tony; the physician always had DiNozzo's best interests at heart.

As he opened the door and patiently waited for Tony to get in the car, his phone buzzed indicating that he had received a text. He pulled out his phone and glanced as five words danced on the screen.

THE PROBLEM HAS BEEN ELIMINATED.

Gibbs immediately knew that Tony would no longer have to worry about the likes of Trent Kort ever again.


	36. Chapter 36

Part 37

The fact that Jethro Gibbs was waiting for a detailed report regarding Tony's health did not seem to bother the ME as he continued his thorough examination of the injured man sitting on his table. Ducky had ceased being intimidated by the team leader's presence years ago and he had yet to let Jethro's impatience influence the meticulous pride he took in his job. Ducky was attempting to ignore his old friend as the former Marine wore a path around the examining table clearly causing Tony unnecessary stress.

"Jethro, isn't there something that you could be doing?" Ducky asked.

"I'm doing it," Gibbs replied, his steely gaze daring the ME to challenge his authority.

The physician was not bothered by Gibbs' infamous glare. "What you are doing is agitating my patient, not to mention getting on my nerves. Now, go find something else to do and I will let you know when I'm done examining Anthony."

The team leader's gaze shifted between the ME and his patient. "I'll be back in ten minutes," he vowed.

"I'm sure you will," the ME muttered under his breath.

As Gibbs left autopsy, Ducky continued to probe the bruises on Tony's face, a bit of pride swelling inside of him as he recognized the fact that he had won that particular battle of wills with the team leader. It was only a few seconds before the elevator doors were closing and Tony started to visibly relax.

"Thank you," Tony sighed.

The ME smiled at the injured man. "You're welcome. I think that sometimes Jethro doesn't realize how formidable and imposing he can be, especially if he's worried."

"You think he's worried about me?"

"I know he is, my boy."

"He probably thinks I'm going to take off again," Tony mused. "I can't blame him for being suspicious; that wasn't one of the brightest things I've ever done. I'm not sure I understand why he seems so vested in me; I'm starting to get the feeling that I'm nothing but a huge screw up."

"Why would you say that, Anthony?" the physician inquired. Ducky and Tony had always had a special relationship; each always having the time to listen to the other. He hoped that somehow that special part of their friendship had survived the torment that Tony had endured the past year.

He didn't miss that fact that Tony suddenly seemed fascinated by the sheet that was covering him; it was evident that despite his faulty memory, the former agent still had difficulty accepting a listening ear or a kind gesture, always thinking that he wasn't worth the effort. Ducky repeated his question, hoping that he could encourage Tony to open up to him. "Tony? Why do you feel that way?"

Tony raked his hand through his hair as he blew out a pent up breath. "It's probably nothing but when I was at the bar, I kept hearing this voice inside my head," DiNozzo began to explain. "It kept telling me that I was going to end up in the gutter. I don't think it was Gibbs' voice, but I feel like it belonged to someone I know or used to know."

Ducky placed his stethoscope on the table beside the former agent. The ME vividly remembered the conversation between the two of them after the young agent had managed to save Sergeant Atlas from the sewers several years ago. Gibbs had sent DiNozzo to him to make sure that he was all right; it had become a ritual ever since DiNozzo began working for NCIS that whenever Tony was injured or sick that he would make a voluntary trip to autopsy and permit him to examine him. For some unknown reason, Tony DiNozzo avoided hospitals and doctor's offices at all cost and Ducky had stepped in to fill the role of personal physician.

_***flashback***'_

_The ME couldn't help but notice how withdrawn and contemplative that Tony had become ever since his arrival in autopsy. The young man had been through quite an ordeal but had managed to save Sergeant Atlas and return to their fold with but a few scrapes and bruises; of course, Ducky was also aware that Tony was more than likely sporting a splitting headache as a result of the cocktail that he had been given to render him unconscious. _

_However, it wasn't his injuries that seemed to be plaguing Tony; something was definitely weighing heavily on the agent's mind. Ducky had just finished regaling him with another story of days gone by as he finished attending a nasty scrape on Anthony's back; it was obvious by the blank stare and the sheer exhaustion that seemed to seep into his very being that Tony had not been listening with his usual fervor._

"_Is there something wrong, Anthony?" Ducky wondered. "I mean anything other than the obvious."_

_Tony shook his head. "Not really. Just kind of sore, but I've lived through worse."_

"_Well then," the ME sighed. "I can only assume that whatever is bothering you is something of a personal nature."_

_Ducky's assumption was met with silence. Tony was almost as closed mouth as Gibbs when it came to exploring his emotions._

"_Do you want to talk about it?" he offered. Tony had listened to him so many times when others simply turned a deaf ear that the ME was glad to have the opportunity to reciprocate. _

"_I'm fine, Ducky. I guess the day's just catching up with me; a good night's sleep and I'll be good as new."_

"_I'm sure you will but in the meantime, why don't you tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"_

"_My head's a scary place; if you don't believe me, you should ask my childhood shrink."_

"_Your childhood shrink?"_

_Tony tiredly grinned. "Didn't everyone have a childhood shrink?"_

_Ducky had a feeling that Tony wasn't joking about seeing a psychiatrist as a child; what little he knew about DiNozzo's childhood prompted him to believe that Tony's father had wanted to blame his ineffectiveness as a parent on his son, causing issues to arise that the young boy had no idea how to handle. _

_Tony tended to hide behind the face of a clown and few people ever got to see the real Anthony DiNozzo; it was a defense mechanism that the agent used in order to keep people at arm's length. Very few people ever got a glimpse of Tony's true personality and the ME counted himself fortunate to be one of those few. Ever since they had first met in Baltimore, the two men had shared a special friendship reminiscent of an eccentric old uncle and a favorite nephew; he was honored to consider Tony as part of his family._

"_When I was down in the sewer with Atlas, I was…afraid," Tony finally admitted. "I tried not to let Atlas know that I was scared, but I'm not sure that I was all that convincing."_

"_I think that given your situation at the time, you had every right to be scared. You had a murderer after you and…'_

"_I wasn't scared that we were going to die," Tony insisted. "I was afraid that my father would be right."_

"_I'm not sure I understand."_

_His gaze never left Tony's face as the exhausted agent struggled with the demons of his past. Ducky waited patiently for DiNozzo to continue; he would not push the young agent because that would only result in Tony shutting down._

"_I had just decided that I wanted to do something else with my life rather than go into the family business," Tony recalled. "To say that my dad wasn't happy with me is an understatement; right before I left for college, he told me, 'Junior, one day you're going to end up in the gutter'. I just kept hearing those words over and over in my mind and I guess for a few minutes, I actually thought that his prediction was going to come true."_

_Ducky gently squeezed his shoulder. "Anthony, my boy, you must know that your father was wrong. Does he have any idea of all the things you've accomplished in your career? You're a brilliant agent; your instincts rival Gibbs and if it hadn't been for you, Sergeant Atlas would be dead. Don't ever doubt yourself, Tony; you're a good man."_

"_Sometimes I wonder. There are probably a lot of people who'd disagree with you."_

"_Don't sell yourself short. Anthony, if your father could see you know, I believe that he would have to eat those words."_

_He wasn't surprised when Tony laughed. "You don't know my dad. I'll never be able to rise up to his standards and for the most part, I've accepted it; but every once in a while, I guess I just get these doubts and then I start over analyzing the past and…" The agent shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I'm sorry. I tend to ramble on when I'm tired; maybe I should just go home and get some rest."_

"_I won't argue with you that you need to rest but don't you dare apologize for your feelings; you're entitled to them."_

_Tony grew quiet. Ducky had to admit that a subdued DiNozzo caused him great concern. Tony's vibrant character was a constant and the ME hated to see that personality quenched by a memory of the past._

"_Don't bury your feelings, Tony. They are a part of you and you must accept them; after all, our emotions are what make us human."_

"_I guess," Tony tiredly conceded. "Like I said, I'm just tired. Anyway, I'd appreciate it if we kept this conversation just between us."_

"_Of course," he agreed. "Just know that I'm here for you any time you need to talk."_

"_Thanks Ducky."_

_Ducky patted the younger man's knee. "You're welcome," he assured Tony. "Now, let's finish getting you checked out so you can go home."_

_The ME continued to work, purposefully prattling on about any random subject that he thought would distract Tony from the thoughts of his past. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Tony's father was clearly a fool to deny the love and affection of his son. Maybe one day, the elder DiNozzo would see the error of his ways, but until then, Ducky would make sure that Tony never doubted his place in his life or on the team_

_***end flashback***_

"You all right, Doc?"

The sound of Tony's voice interrupted his private musings. "I'm sorry, Anthony; I didn't mean to let my thoughts wander; I was just…remembering."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Tony sympathized. "I've got so much in my mind that I don't know what's true and what's not. It's just like I was saying earlier like when I was telling about that voice in my head, it seemed to so real but how can I be sure? Did that voice belong to someone from my time on the streets or was it someone from Tony DiNozzo's past? I have these memories inside my head but I don't know who they belong to."

"It's going to take time, Anthony."

He could sense Tony's frustration as the former agent clenched his fist, anger evident in the fine lines of fatigue around his eyes. "I wish everybody would quit saying that! How much more frickin' time can it take? Why can't I just remember so everything can get back to normal? It's what Gibbs wants, it's what you want, it's what Abby wants…"

"Is it what you want?" Ducky challenged. "Normality is all about perception, Tony. I know you're impatient and you have every right to be but…"

"Impatient? I don't think impatient begins to cover what I'm feeling. I just want to understand what's going on in my head. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, it's not. Not at all." Ducky knew that Gibbs would not be happy about his next suggestion, especially given his earlier reaction to the idea, but fortunately the former Marine was not around at the moment. Tony was hurting and the ME would do anything within his power to help alleviate the younger man's pain. "Anthony, have you considered hypnosis?"

Tony shook his head. "My head's a scary place…" DiNozzo stopped abruptly, his expression one of confusion and uncertainty; he began to look around autopsy as if he were seeing it for the first time. "I've said those exact words to you before. Haven't I? I've spent a lot of time in this room before and not just when I was drunk."

Ducky wasn't sure how much he should reveal to Tony, but there was something urging him to try and find out exactly what memories were beckoning to the desperate man. "You've been here many times and not just as a patient. You were down here quite often whenever you were working a case or sometimes you would just come to chat. Every Monday morning you would come down and ask…"

"About your mother," Tony finished. "Your mom thinks I'm a gigolo."

The ME couldn't help but smile at Tony's recollection. "She also thinks you're an Italian furniture mover and every time you come over, you end up rearranging the living room."

"I come over to your house?"

"Yes, you come every Saturday you're not working and play bridge with mother and her friends," he explained. "She has asked about you every week that you were missing; she really misses you."

Tony cradled his head in his hands. "I'm tired, Ducky. I'm so tired."

"I know you are. What you need is rest; maybe we can talk some more later."

"I'd like that."

"I'll find you some scrubs to put on before Jethro returns."

"I appreciate it; actually I appreciate everything you've done for me. Although I can't remember it all, I know that you're a friend."

"And you're my friend."

The elevator doors opened and Ducky glanced at his watch. "You're twenty seconds early, Jethro."

"Better than twenty seconds late," Gibbs retorted. "You done?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Other than some significant bruising, especially along his rib cage and groin, with a little ice and a lot of rest, he should be up and around in a couple of days. I have a prescription for a mild pain killer but I would prefer that if he can tolerate it, that he takes an over the counter pain reliever such as ibuprofen. Rest will be the most important factor for a speedy recovery, so make sure he gets lots of it," Ducky instructed.

"Don't worry, Duck; I'll take care of him," the team leader promised.

"I know you will, Jethro. Now, let's give Anthony a little privacy while he changes," the ME suggested, subtly motioning for Gibbs to join him at his desk so they could talk out of earshot of Tony.

"What's up?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"He's remembering more and more; I think Tony is close to a major breakthrough. I mentioned the possibility of hypnosis and he was still hesitant, I think that maybe if you approach him with it, that he'll listen. It really could make a difference in his recovery," Ducky pointed out.

Gibbs shook his head. "I'm not going to force it on him."

"Just let him know that it's an option; I think if he believed that you thought it was a good idea, he would be more receptive."

"I'm not convinced it _is _a good idea."

"But you're not completely opposed to it," the ME stated.

"No, I'm just not sold on the whole idea, but if Tony wants to try it; I'll support him," Gibbs stated.

"Hey Ducky!"

The ME peeked around the corner to see Tony slowly making his way towards them. He had managed to pull on his scrubs but his feet were still bare. DiNozzo was moving painfully slow but that was to be expected, especially with the assorted bruises he was sporting. "Is something wrong, Anthony?"

"What is today?"

"It's Wednesday," Ducky replied.

"Can you teach me to play bridge before Saturday?"

"You picked it up so easily the first time; I don't see why you wouldn't the second time around."

"Good. Tell your mom that I'll be there Saturday."

Ducky patted Tony on the back. "I'll be sure to let her know. Now, you let Jethro help you with your shoes and then he can take you back to his house so you can get some rest. I'll stop by in the morning," the physician promised.

Tony nodded his thanks as Gibbs took him by the arm and led him back over to the table. After he helped Tony sit down, he knelt down and slipped Tony's shoes on his feet. Ducky watched the two men as they made their way across the room towards the elevator; he hoped that along with the other memories that seemed to be resurfacing that among them would be the father and son bond that DiNozzo and Gibbs used to share.

Jethro had never believed that Tony was dead; he had kept his hope alive despite opposition from the Director and at times, his own team. Over the years, DiNozzo had become like a son to Jethro and the team leader couldn't face losing another family member. When Gibbs had discovered that Tony was alive, a determination burned in his old friend to get his son back and he would face the devil himself to do so.

Ducky glanced at his watch once again; although he had been more than willing to treat Anthony's injuries, it was past time to go home. He quickly cleaned up the area and then promptly gathered his things. As he cut off the lights, Ducky thought about the great pleasure that he was going to have as he informed his mother that her Italian furniture mover and favorite bridge partner would be coming over Saturday.

**My chapter was getting so long, I had to divide it. I'm not sure if I'll be able to wrap it up in the rest of the next chapter, so you may get one more after that. Anyway, I'm going to finish this one before I update the others, so thank you in advance for your patience. With any luck, you should have the next chapter before the weekend. **

**I'm so encouraged by everyone who has responded with their choice of which story I should start after Bad Moon, but there's still time to vote in case you haven't. I love hearing your thoughts and opinions…they really motivate me! Just in case you've forgotten, here are the ideas…1) A Baltimore Story; 2) An AU that takes place after Frame Up; and 3) Franks gets Tony in trouble. **

**I do intend to eventually start all of these, but I want my readers to voice their opinion on which one they'd like to see first! Again, thank you all for your continued support…you guys are amazing. I'm off to finish the next chapter!**


	37. Chapter 37

Part 38

The ride to the team leader's house had been uneventful mainly due to the fact that DiNozzo had fallen asleep almost as soon as they had pulled out of the parking lot of the agency. Although he found the silence disconcerting, Gibbs was grateful for the brief respite so that he could figure out exactly what it was that he wanted to say to Tony. There was so much that needed to be said, yet being a man of few words was at times a hindrance, especially when Tony's future was resting on his every word.

He had been encouraged when Ducky had informed him that some of Tony's memories were returning but Gibbs knew that he still had to tread carefully and not push too hard or DiNozzo could be consumed by his past and never return. The possibility of losing Tony again was something that the former Marine didn't want to consider and he would do everything in his power to make sure that the man who had become like a son to him was safe.

Pulling up in front of his house, he cut off the engine and blew out a pent up breath; DiNozzo wasn't the only one who was tired. He reached over and gave Tony's shoulder a gentle squeeze in an effort to rouse him from what Gibbs could only hope was a dreamless sleep. "Come on, Tony; we're here."

"Hmm?"

"We're here," he repeated. "Let's get you inside."

"Okay," Tony slurred.

Gibbs got out of the car and quickly made his way to the passenger's side of the vehicle. Opening the door, he helped Tony to stand up and waited for DiNozzo to get his feet under him so that they could begin the arduous journey up the stairs and into the house. By the time they reached the top of the steps, Gibbs was bearing most of Tony's weight.

He managed to open the door and guide DiNozzo over to the couch where he carefully deposited the younger man on the sofa. Tony carefully curled up on his side and situated himself against the cushions as Gibbs covered him with an afghan. The team leader perched himself on the coffee table, his eyes studying the weary form before him. So much had happened in the past few weeks that at times he wondered how the two of them had weathered the tumultuous storm that had nearly engulfed their lives; it was time to move on with their lives, except for the fact that fate seemed determined to continually throw unexpected roadblocks in their paths.

"Something wrong?" Tony asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

"Nah…just thinking," Gibbs sighed.

"About what?"

"Nothing important."

"Could've fooled me. You seemed like you were a thousand miles away," DiNozzo quietly observed.

Some things never changed. Tony's perceptions and instincts seemed to be intact; Gibbs had relied on his senior agent's intuitive nature many times and he hoped that he would be able to do so again. He looked forward to the day that they would be a team again.

"I uh…was just thinking about the past…and the future," he finally admitted.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Tony pulled the blanket up tighter around his chin. "I guess I'm just tired of trying to figure out my past and reconciling it with my future. I'm not even sure I have a future."

"What do you mean?" The former Marine wasn't sure that he was prepared for the answer to his question, but if Tony was willing to open up to him, he would listen to whatever the other man had to say.

"I don't know if I can explain it." Tony shook his head, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Just forget I said anything; I'm tired and I'm probably not making much sense."

"I know that tired probably doesn't begin to describe how you're feeling but you can't avoid me forever, DiNozzo. We need to talk." Despite his earlier reluctance, Gibbs knew that they had both had issues that needed to be addressed and avoiding them would only deepen the chasm between them.

Tony's eyes were closed but Gibbs knew that he wasn't sleeping. It was obvious that DiNozzo was trying to evade his questions but he was determined to get through to Tony and this time, he wouldn't fail. Although he'd never admit it, he had felt a twinge of jealousy when he had observed the easy camaraderie between Tony and Ducky; he had already decided that he would do whatever it took to rebuild the father and son bond that they had once shared.

"Tony?" he called out. "Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you," DiNozzo moaned, reluctantly meeting the ex Marine's gaze.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Don't you think we have some things to talk about?" he pressed.

"If you say so. Personally, I'm fine with just pretending that I know exactly who I am and that the whole last year never happened; that way everyone can get back to leading their lives. Maybe that way, I'll stay out of trouble," DiNozzo tiredly quipped.

Gibbs permitted a tiny grin to escape his lips. Tony was beginning to sound more like himself and the team leader was relieved to know that DiNozzo had finally begun to accept who he was; although Todd Gibbs would always be a part of Tony, he was becoming a distant memory and Tony DiNozzo was emerging from the shadows.

"Tony, I wish I could erase this whole nightmare for you, but I can't. I don't know what I need to do to make this easier for you but I'm swear to you, I'm going to figure it out."

"I don't know either, Gibbs. I was starting to believe that I could just be Tony DiNozzo and pick up where I left off and then everything would be fine but I don't think it's going to work that way," the younger man mused. "I'm remembering bits and pieces but when I try to put it all together, everything seems to fall apart."

The team leader didn't dare interrupt Tony as DiNozzo shared the thoughts that had been weighing heavily on his mind. He had wanted nothing more than for Tony to resume his place by his side as his senior field agent and as his son but Gibbs was beginning to feel like he had been placing demands on Tony that the younger man hadn't been prepared to meet.

He silently urged Tony to continue, hoping that DiNozzo wouldn't mistake his silence for anger or disappointment; truthfully, he had never been more proud of Tony that he was at this moment.

Fortunately, Tony seemed to be ignoring his pensiveness as he proceeded to share his innermost thoughts. "I'm getting tired of trying to figure out exactly who Tony DiNozzo is; you and the others have this idea image that I'm supposed to slip back into, but I can't do that. Too much has happened and I'm not the man I used to be. I've changed and I've got to accept the fact that I can't go back in time and fix all the things that I did when I thought I was Todd Gibbs.

"I almost went back down that path today; it would have just taken one drink and I wouldn't have had the courage to come back again. There was a time that I would have done anything for a drink and truthfully, it took the pain away and that's all that mattered."

"And now?" Gibbs inquired. "What matters to you now?"

"I'm not sure," Tony honestly answered. "Right now, all I want is to be able to quit running from my past; I want to put it all behind me and not think about it anymore. I guess that's going to be kind of hard with Kort constantly hounding me."

Gibbs gave himself a mental head slap. With everything that had happened, he had failed to inform Tony that the man who had subjected Tony to weeks of hell was no longer a burden that he no longer had to bear. "Kort's not going to be a problem any longer."

Disbelief and confusion were etched in Tony's features. "What…what do you mean Kort's no longer a problem?"

"Just what I said; you don't have to worry about him anymore."

Tony sat up and threw the blanket aside. "What did you do, Gibbs? Please tell me that you didn't go after Kort."

"I didn't go after Kort; I was more worried about finding you."

"Then what happened to Kort?" Tony demanded to know.

"I uh…called in a favor."

DiNozzo pushed himself off the couch, wincing as he stood to his feet. "A favor? Is that what it's called now? When I worked in Baltimore, I called it a hit. Kort's CIA," Tony reminded him. "Now they'll be after you and if something happens to you, I won't be able to live with the guilt and the knowledge that you died because of me."

Gibbs steadied Tony as he met DiNozzo's uncertain gaze. He wasn't sure if Tony realized what he had said. Was another memory pushing its way to the surface? "When you worked in Baltimore?"

Tony's eyes clouded over with uncertainty and doubt. "I'm not sure where that came from," he swallowed hard. "Did I even work in Baltimore?"

"Yeah, you did," Gibbs assured him. "About two years before you joined NCIS."

"I'll have to take your word on that."

"You're remembering more and more, Tony; your memory's coming back."

Tony pulled free of the former Marine's grip and began to pace, his gait was slow and if the pained expression on his face was any indication, each step he took sent obvious waves of pure agony through his aching body. "Maybe, but that's not important right now. I need to know what happened to Kort," Tony insisted.

"All you need to know is that he's been…eliminated. Someone in the company owed me a favor and I decided it was time to collect; it's as simple as that. I wasn't going to take the chance; you don't deserve having to look over your shoulder the rest of your life."

"You shouldn't have gotten involved."

The team leader wasn't sure why Tony's words seemed to spark his rage. Perhaps it was the months of constant worry and wonder if DiNozzo was alive or it could have been the sorrow at the realization that his captivity and time on the streets had made him a stranger to his friends; perhaps it was simply frustration at himself for what he considered an epic failure on his part to save the man who was like a son to him.

He blocked DiNozzo's path, standing toe to toe with the younger man. "I was involved from the day we found you on the docks! Actually, I was involved the day you went missing! You don't have the right to tell me that I shouldn't have gotten involved! Did you really think that I would just sit by and wait to hear that you were dead? Tony, you're like a son to me and you may not remember but I protect my own; I couldn't sit by and let Kort destroy you."

Gibbs instantly regretted letting his emotions take control of actions. He had permitted his feelings to dictate his words and judging by Tony's expression, the dark haired man had been caught off guard by his verbal attack. "I'm sorry, Tony; I don't know why I…"

Tony sat back down on the couch, waving off his apology. "Don't apologize. Sign of weakness. I guess I had that coming."

"No you didn't. I…"

"You were being honest about your feelings and I respect that. Maybe I should take a few pointers from you about expressing my emotions."

The team leader laughed as he sat down beside Tony. "I'm the last one to give anyone advice about sharing your feelings; it's not one of my best qualities."

"I guess we do have something in common. When I was living on the streets, I learned quickly that emotions could get you killed so I tried to shove them all in this tiny box and lock them away. That's where the alcohol came in handy; I drank to forget how to feel," Tony admitted. "After I killed Steve and managed to escape, I was determined that no one would ever hurt me like that again; no one would be able to get close enough to me to…"

"To what?" Gibbs gently pressed.

"To control me." Tony cradled his head in his hands. "I'm tired, Gibbs."

He shook his head in defiance as he cupped Tony's face in his calloused hands and forced DiNozzo to look at him. "I'm not letting you off that easy. I'm not going to let you close yourself off again; you need to talk and I need to hear what you have to say. I'm not going to let this go and neither are you."

The younger man nervously licked his lips. "I used the alcohol to keep people away from me; no one wants much to do with a drunk, well except for Megan and Olivia. They tried to help me but I kept my distance. I didn't know who I could trust, but I knew I couldn't go to the cops; they just treated me like the drunk I was. I knew that Kort, even though I wasn't sure of his name at the time, was still after me; he always seemed to be able to find me and give me little reminders that he controlled me. I finally managed to drop off his radar; Todd Gibbs didn't matter to him."

"But Tony DiNozzo did."

"Yeah, but Tony DiNozzo died in that basement and now that he's been resurrected, I still have a hard time of letting Todd go. It would be so easy for me to go back to that lifestyle; I almost did. I wanted that drink, Gibbs."

"I know you did, but you fought the urge; you didn't give in and that's a big step, Tony."

"A big step?" Tony scoffed. "This whole ordeal has been one step forward and two steps back; "I'm tired of going backwards."

"Then do something about it," Gibbs challenged.

"What do you want me to do?" Tony countered.

"It's not what I want, Tony; this isn't about me or Abby or anyone else for that matter. It's about you and what you need."

"I don't know what I need!"

"Yes, you do!" Frustration and desperation to help Tony were consuming him; the desire for DiNozzo to accept not only his help, but the help of others was driving him to push Tony beyond his emotional limits. "You know exactly what you need but you have to be the one to ask for it! Quit hiding behind Todd Gibbs and the past…"

"I don't know how!" Tony bellowed. "Every time I think I can be Tony DiNozzo, something gets in the way! It's like I'm on the outside of a house looking through the window and I see someone who looks like me but I don't know who he is! I know who I'm supposed to be only because everyone keeps telling me and then I get the feeling that every time I do something un Tony like, I feel like I let everyone around me down, including you."

Gibbs mind was reeling as he considered Tony's words. Despite the fact that he wanted things to be like they used to be, he also knew that he was going to have to accept the reality that Tony wasn't the only one who had changed because of the events of the past year. Had he expected too much, too soon? Had he pushed too hard or not hard enough? Had he failed Tony yet again?

He pushed these questions to the back of his mind. There would be time to delve into his own psyche later; right now, he had to convince DiNozzo that all that mattered was that he was alive and that no matter how long it took for him to recover, Gibbs would be by his side each step of the way. "Tony, I want you to listen to me," Gibbs pleaded. "Look at me; I want to tell you something."

It was a few seconds before Tony finally meets his gaze. Gibbs was determined to replace the doubt in those green orbs with assurance. "You have _never_ let me down, Tony. I've never been more proud of you than I am at this moment."

"How can you be proud of me after everything I've done?" Tony wanted to know.

There was no mistaking the desperation in Tony's voice. He was searching for approval and he was the only one who could give DiNozzo what he wanted. "I'm proud of you because you survived; you never gave up and I don't care if you're Todd Gibbs or Tony DiNozzo, all that matters is you're alive."

He watched Tony lean back against the couch. "I wish I could believe that it didn't make a difference but it does; you know and I know it. I know I'm Tony DiNozzo but…"

"Todd Gibbs will always be a part of your life," Gibbs conceded.

"I thought I could just forget about him; seems like that's what everybody wants me to do."

"We were wrong…_I_ was wrong to try and ignore that. I wanted everything to be like it used to be but I know now that it can't be. If I had realized it sooner, maybe I could've spared you a lot of unnecessary pain. I expected too much, too soon; I…."

"Gibbs, please; we've been through this. I don't need your apology or your guilt," Tony quietly informed him. "I just want to move on but I have no idea where to begin."

Tony's voice was etched with defeat and loneliness and Gibbs was determined more than ever to help DiNozzo figure out who he was and where he belonged. This time, he wouldn't place his own demands on the younger man and he would listen to what Tony had to say _and_ what he wanted; Gibbs wanted to do what was best for DiNozzo and he would make sure that everyone understood that Tony's mental and physical health was his top priority.

"I've got a couple of ideas if you're interested," Gibbs urged.

"I'm listening."

"Ducky suggested that maybe you consider hypnosis."

"He said something about it," Tony recalled. "I don't know. My head's pretty screwed up; I guess I'm afraid that it'll just make things worse."

"I'm a little leery about it myself," Gibbs admitted. "But, it's up to you and if you choose to do go through with it; I'll have your six."

"I told Ducky I'd give it some thought."

"That's fair enough."

"You said you had a couple of ideas; what's the second one?"

Gibbs smiled at the younger man. "I think it's time for you to get some help; you need to talk to someone who understands what you're going through."

Tony visibly bristled. "A shrink?"

"Not exactly." Gibbs glanced at his watch as he rose from his seat. He picked up the afghan and held it up, silently indicating for Tony to lie back down. "I've got a few phone calls to make; you get some rest and if you feel like it later on, we'll talk some more."

"I'm fine," Tony protested.

"Your definition of fine has always been different than mine, Tony. Get some rest," he ordered.

Gibbs covered Tony up and tucked the edges around his exhausted frame. "I'll be close by if you need anything."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The former Marine headed towards the kitchen when Tony called out to him. "Hey, Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for…everything, including taking care of Kort."

Gibbs smiled at Tony. For the first time in a long time, things seemed to be going in the right direction; there were still a lot of questions that had to be answered and explanations offered to the powers that be, but none of that mattered at the moment. What did matter was that he and Tony had reached an understanding and that they could move forward with their lives.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

For the first time in a long time, Tony had been able to sleep without being awakened by the nightmares that had become commonplace. When he had finally awakened to the smell of bacon and eggs frying, he discovered that he had been asleep almost sixteen hours and that Gibbs had simply permitted him to sleep.

He had made his way to the kitchen and began eating a generous portion of eggs and sipping on the swill that Gibbs justified as coffee. It was then that Gibbs had provided more details regarding his idea for Tony to seek out some help in the form of attending an AA meeting; the team leader had done some research of several meetings in the area and suggested that Tony choose one. Gibbs had recommended one that was nearby and he had reluctantly consented to going and seeing what it was like.

In hindsight, he wished he had never put a bite of food in his mouth; the butterflies in Tony's stomach were doing somersaults, forcing him to fight back waves of nausea as he entered the church basement. He knew that he was going to have to eventually start attending AA meetings but he hadn't planned on doing it so soon. Tony wasn't looking forward to admitting to a group of strangers that he had a drinking problem; truthfully, it had been hard enough to admit it to himself but nevertheless, thanks to Gibbs, here he was.

As he glanced around the room, he quickly discovered that there were people from all walks of life represented. Women, men, and even a couple of teenagers were talking amongst themselves; he couldn't help but wonder what their lives had been like before they had been consumed by the disease of alcoholism. What had led them to take that first drink? He would venture to say that none of them could say that they had started drinking because they were tortured, but he knew that all of them could probably say that they drank to escape from some kind of pain.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a familiar touch. Tony didn't bother looking over his shoulder to ascertain the identity of the man behind him; he knew it was Gibbs. The team leader had been the one who had pointed out several times that Tony needed to be around people who truly understood what he was facing as he struggled to remain sober.

"Sorry I took so long," Gibbs apologized. "I was looking for a parking space."

"It's okay," he sighed. "I was just kind of getting a feel for the place."

"You want to find a seat?"

Tony shrugged, the hesitancy he had been experiencing was now returning in full force. "I don't think I'm ready for this, Gibbs."

"You don't have to say anything tonight; just listen."

"I don't know…"

"At least let me introduce you to the lady who kind of oversees this group."

"Gibbs," Tony began to protest. "Let's just go home. I can't do this."

"That's what everyone thinks when they first walk through these doors; I know I did."

Tony turned around to discover Olivia Carter standing behind him. He had never forgotten the kindness that she had shown him on the streets but his concern for her and her daughter's safety had prompted him to keep his distance; of course thanks to Gibbs, there was no longer a threat on his life and he didn't have to worry about anyone else getting hurt because of Kort.

"Olivia? What are you doing here?"

"I've been coming to AA since I was a senior in high school. I've been sober for a long time and plan to stay that way; of course, now I help sponsor other addicts who are just getting back on their feet and I want to help you if you'll let me."

"I had no idea that you…"

"Alcoholism affects a lot of people and some let it control them and some control it; the people you see here tonight refuse to allow alcoholism to control them and by being here tonight, you're taking a stand," she pointed out. "Just sit and listen tonight and you'll see what I mean."

Tony nodded as Olivia scurried off to the front of the room. He carefully sat down in a chair in the back row, ignoring the dull ache that had been with him since he had left Ducky's office. Gibbs sat down beside him; the man was fast becoming his ever present anchor during the storms of his life.

"I still don't know about this," Tony mumbled.

"Just listen," Gibbs quietly urged.

And Tony did just that. He listened to one heart wrenching story after another of people losing everything because of their dependency on alcohol; these individuals had been in some kind of pain, be it physical or emotional and they had started to drink in order to ease that pain. It was then that Tony realized that he was no different than the men and women standing in front of him sharing their story; alcohol had become his crutch so he wouldn't have to deal with the memories of his captivity and it had taken everything from him including his memories of the life that he had left behind.

The last speaker was done and Olivia was giving the crowd one last chance to speak before they closed the meeting. He struggled with the inner war raging inside him; Tony didn't want to tell his problems to a bunch of strangers, but he couldn't deny that he was inexplicably drawn to these people who had lost so much and yet were moving on with their lives. Tony wanted to move on with his life and it was going to be up to him to take the first step.

He glanced over at Gibbs who graced him with a slight nod of approval; it was obvious that the team leader had sensed the debate that had been going on his mind and was silently urging him to follow his instincts.

Blowing out a pent up breath, Tony rose from his seat and uttered those words that would allow him to begin the journey to reclaim his life.

"My name is Tony and I'm…I'm an alcoholic…"

**Happy Easter! One more chapter to go and maybe an epilogue…not quite sure about that yet. Thank you so much for your continued support and loyalty; I am so blessed with such wonderful readers and I can't say thank you enough. **

**Keep those votes coming in (see the last chapter of Silent Tears if needed). So far, it's pretty much a tie between a Baltimore story and Franks gets Tony in trouble. Don't worry, I plan on doing all three at some point, just wanting you guys to get a chance to vote on which one to start first!**

**Again, thank you all again for hanging in there with me! Have a wonderful weekend!**


	38. Chapter 38

Tony found the coolness of the window refreshing as he laid his head against the passenger's side window as Gibbs expertly navigated the streets of D.C. He was tired but yet for the first time in months, he felt alive. It had taken a lot out of him emotionally to stand in front of total strangers and admit that he had a problem; although he didn't provide any details about himself or why he had started drinking, his admission had opened doors for him that had been locked by his doubts and fears. He had managed to take the first step on the journey to reclaim his life, now he just had to figure out how to keep moving forward.

"You okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, finally breaking the companionable silence between them.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured the older man. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing and everything."

"That's kind of a cryptic answer."

"It's the best answer I've got right now," Tony replied. "My mind's racing; it's kind of hard to sort it all out."

"Maybe I can help."

Tony shook his head. "Not right now."

"I'm here whenever you're ready."

He had fully expected Gibbs to press him to reveal his thoughts but the team leader seemed content to let him bide his time; the pressure and the tension that had been prevalent in their strained relationship was slowly being replaced by the formation of a newly discovered trust between them.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Any time, DiNozzo."

Once again, Tony found himself staring out the window as he considered the enigmatic man sitting next to him. He wasn't sure what he had done in the past to earn this man's loyalty but Tony hoped that one day he would understand the bond that supposedly existed between them. What had Gibbs seen in him that would prompt him to take a cop from Baltimore under his wing? Maybe one day he would figure it out.

"Hey Tony, you still with me?" Gibbs asked, once again bringing him back to the reality of the moment.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"You got quiet."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drift off again; I guess I do that a lot."

"Yeah you do, but it's okay."

"Did you let me space out like that when I worked for you?" Tony had a feeling that he already knew the answer to his question.

"No," Gibbs replied. "No, I didn't."

"Why do you do it now?"

"I don't know; I guess I'm worried about saying the wrong thing. I can be pretty blunt when I have to be."

The fact that Gibbs was guarded around him had not escaped his attention. There were times that the team leader acted like Tony was fragile and then there were other times when the man seemed prepared to read him the riot act. It was exhausting to try and process Gibbs' fluctuating emotions that he kept bottled inside; it was time for Leroy Jethro Gibbs to treat him like he had always treated very special agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Tony quipped. He took a deep breath and blew it out, hoping that Gibbs wouldn't take what he was about to say the wrong way; Tony wanted to convince the former Marine that he was on the road to recovery. "I think that if you start acting normal around me, maybe it'll help me figure out the missing pieces a little quicker."

A wave of relief came over him when Gibbs grinned at him. "So, in other words, you want me to stop being nice to you," the team leader mused. "You always worry when you think I'm being nice to you."

"I guess that's one way of looking at it. I just think if everyone starts acting like they used to around me that it'll help me remember. At least I think it will; it couldn't hurt."

"No, it won't hurt," Gibbs agreed. "I'll try, Tony."

"In the words of Master Yoda, 'Do or do not, there is no try'."

"Master Yoda?"

"Oh come on, Boss, even you had to have seen _Star Wars_; actually Yoda didn't appear until _The Empire Strikes Back. _That was the second movie but the fifth…"

A smack to the back of the head silenced his recollection. He stared at the team leader whose gaze remained fixed on the road. "What?" Gibbs asked. "You told me to act normal."

"I may end up regretting that decision."

"Probably so, DiNozzo. Probably so."

The comfortable silence blanketed them again as Gibbs turned down the street where he lived. Tony stared at the houses as they passed them, his thoughts wandering once again as he tried to piece together the puzzle of his life. "Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"Where do I live?"

"You have an apartment just outside of D.C."

"An apartment? How do I still have an apartment if I haven't been around to pay rent?"

"It was taken care of," Gibbs stated.

"What do you mean it was taken care of?" Gibbs' stoic expression provided Tony with the answer to his question. "You paid my rent for a year?"

"Yeah. I wanted to be sure that you had a place to come back to."

A lump formed in his throat as he considered the older man's words. Gibbs had kept his apartment for him; there was no way that he deserved the loyalty that the ex Marine constantly demonstrated towards him. He knew that the team leader had never given up on him, but it wasn't until now that he realized the depth of that devotion. "I uh…I can't believe you did that for me."

"Why not?"

"Because…because I'm not…worth the trouble."

Gibbs pulled up in front of his house and turned off the engine; Tony could almost feel the heat radiating from the agent's glare. "Don't ever say that again," Gibbs warned. "Don't ever short change yourself, DiNozzo. Rule number 5, Tony."

"Don't waste good," he mumbled to himself.

"And you're good."

Tony knew better than to argue with Gibbs lest he receive yet another head slap. He had to admit that it was nice to have someone truly care about him and accept him for who he was; there had been many times the past year that no one had tried to see past the image of the drunken homeless man that he had portrayed which had led to a life of fear, loneliness, and the belief that no one cared if he lived or died.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he stared out the passenger's window, his eyes coming to rest on the well dressed figure standing on Gibbs' front porch. The stranger was an imposing man whose eyes danced with intimidation and power, the toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth silently dared anyone to challenge his authority.

"It…uh…looks like you've got company, Boss," Tony informed the man sitting beside him, the slight quiver in his voice betraying the deep seated nervousness he was experiencing.

"Leon," Gibbs muttered under his breath. "What does he want?"

"Who's Leon?"

"Probably our future director."

He easily picked up on the fact that the team leader addressed the man as _their _future director; Gibbs was still convinced that Tony would return to NCIS and that they would be working side by side once again; he still wasn't so sure, but with the turn of events, DiNozzo was no longer ruling out the possibility.

The two men got out of the car and made their way towards the front porch, Tony purposefully staying a couple of steps behind Gibbs. He quickly tamped down the urge to flee again; Tony had figured out that he couldn't run every time his insecurities pushed their way to the forefront of his mind.

"Go on inside," Gibbs insisted. "I'll be in a few minutes."

Tony bristled at the thought of being sent away like a petulant child; if this conversation was going to be about him, he wanted to hear what the other two men had to say. He was about to tell Gibbs that he preferred to stay but the intense scrutiny that he was being subjected to by the stranger was starting to overwhelm him and he welcomed the dismissal.

"I'll uh…go fix some coffee," Tony softly replied, maneuvering himself around Gibbs as he opened the front door, vaguely wondering to himself if he even knew how to make coffee.

Closing the door behind him, he found himself leaning against the wooden frame for support. The knot in his stomach pulled tighter as he heard the muffled voices on the other side of the door. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that they were talking about him and that knowledge did nothing but sicken him.

Fighting back the waves of nausea, Tony sought refuge in the kitchen. He fell into the chair at the table and cradled his head in his hands, wishing the feeling of dread would simply disappear. "Please don't let this be something bad," he whispered pleadingly, hoping that God was listening to his prayer. "I just got on my feet; please don't kick 'em out from under me again because I don't know if I can get back up again."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Gibbs waited for Tony to go into the house and close the door before he confronted the man standing on his porch. Assistant Director Leon Vance was considered by many to be a force to be reckoned with, however the team leader had neither been impressed nor intimidated by the man; his dealings with Vance had been limited in the past but he had a feeling that was about to change.

He leaned up against the railing and crossed his arms, quietly daring Vance to even consider the possibility of going after Tony. Gibbs had made a vow to protect Tony and he would die if necessary, in order to keep that promise.

"What can I do for you, Leon?" Gibbs inquired, the edge to his voice discreetly informing Vance that he was not in the mood or had the time to engage in any game that he was attempting to play.

He needed to make sure that the Assistant Director's sudden appearance had not rattled Tony; Gibbs' protective instincts were in overdrive and he the quicker that he got rid of Vance, the sooner he could focus on Tony. Positive things were starting to happen for DiNozzo and he would not let anyone stand in the young man's way as he started to live his life again.

"I take it you just weren't in the neighborhood, Leon," Gibbs began in an attempt to provide Vance with an opening.

"Very perceptive, Gibbs," Vance countered. "Of course, Director Shepard always said that it was difficult to get anything past you."

He refused to rise to the other man's bait; he had no intention of dredging up his past with Jenny, especially with the likes of Leon Vance. "What do you want?" he asked once again, his patience quickly waning.

"It seems that there's a lot of scuttlebutt going around about your former senior field agent; he's caused quite a stir at NCIS _and_ the CIA."

"And you're here to do damage control?" Gibbs deduced. He wasn't sure that he liked where this conversation was headed. Tony had been a pawn in Jenny and Kort's private war and he had suffered unimaginable horrors; he would not permit DiNozzo to be subjected to that personal hell ever again.

Vance shook his head. "Not at all. Actually, I owe DiNozzo a lot, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be the Director of NCIS."

Gibbs exhaled the breath he had been inadvertently holding. "So, they finally pulled out the big chair for you and you were more than happy to sit down in it."

"I've worked hard to get where I am," Leon pointed out.

"I won't argue with that; I always had a feeling that you would end up at the top."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence, Agent Gibbs."

A tiny smile played upon the team leader's lips as he fixed his infamous glare upon the Director. "Don't thank me yet, Leon."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's been a long day and you've wasted enough of my time." Gibbs turned to enter his house.

"Not just yet, Gibbs. I think we have something that we need to discuss."

His hand on the doorknob, he glanced back over his shoulder at Vance. "Such as?"

"DiNozzo's future at NCIS."

Gibbs raked his hand through his hair. "What about it?"

"Aren't you interested to find out if he has one?" Vance pressed.

He visibly bristled at the other man's cryptic comment. Was Vance actually threatening Tony's job? "Are you saying he doesn't?" Gibbs challenged.

"I'm not saying that at all."

"What are you up to, Leon?"

Vance sat down in one of the chairs and gestured for Gibbs to join him. The former Marine had already ascertained that the Director was someone that he would have to be wary of; the old adage of keeping one's enemies close rang true for Vance. Perhaps it was premature to label Leon Vance as an adversary, but it was never too early to err on the side of caution.

"I'm not up to anything, Agent Gibbs," Vance said. "I don't like games."

"Right," Gibbs scoffed. "You didn't get to where you're at by playing by the rules."

"And you've never broken a few rules?"

"Not any of mine."

He hid his growing disdain for the Director as Vance leaned his tall frame against the back of the chair. Prepared to defend Tony with his last breath, Gibbs waited for Leon to make his next move. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long.

"SecNav sent me to tell DiNozzo that his job would be waiting for him when he was ready to come back," Vance informed him.

Gibbs stared at him in disbelief. If what Vance was saying were true, then there would be one less battle that Tony would have to fight; the realization that he still had a job to go back to could possibly improve DiNozzo's outlook on life and aid in his recovery.

Nodding his approval, he said, "That's good to know."

"He will still have a lot to prove once he returns."

"I don't think he has anything to prove."

"He'll still have to requalify on the range and be cleared by the department psychiatrist."

"I figured as much."

Vance obviously wasn't pleased by SecNav's decision but was not prepared to make waves so soon after his recent promotion; a fact which was clearly going to work to DiNozzo's advantage. Of course, the decision to return to work was Tony's decision and despite his own personal desire to have DiNozzo back by his side, Gibbs would respect whatever choice Tony made. It had taken a lot of soul searching to get to that point of acceptance, but he had come to realize that he had to let DiNozzo be his own man and make his own decisions.

"Do you have any idea as to when we can expect him back?" Vance wanted to know.

"Not really; he'll come back when he's ready."

"That's not the answer I needed to hear. Perhaps _I_ should talk with Agent DiNozzo personally and…"

"That's the only answer you're going to get," he smugly countered. "And no…you're not talking to DiNozzo."

Vance stood and headed towards the door. "I owe him a great deal; his misfortune was my gain."

The team leader shot up out of his seat and blocked Vance's path. "I said no."

"You can't protect him forever, Gibbs."

"Watch me," he snapped.

"I have been and I'm here to tell you that you better learn to separate your paternal feelings for DiNozzo from those of a team leader. Unnecessary attachments will only hold you back."

"I think it's time for you to leave, _Director_ Vance."

Gibbs easily sensed the Director's displeasure but to his credit, Vance didn't press the issue. His piercing gaze followed the other man as he descended the steps. It was evident to both men that their working relationship was going to be one of dissonance and turmoil; Gibbs was used to doing things his way and he wasn't prepared to change for Leon Vance.

"I expect an answer by next week," Vance insisted in an effort to assert his authority once again. "If he doesn't choose to come back, then I'll need to find a replacement for him."

The former Marine simply smiled at the new Director. "Have a good day, Leon."

As soon as Vance got in his car and pulled off, the door opened and he was joined by Tony whose current expression betrayed the anxiety that was plaguing him. Gibbs patted the young man on the back. "Let's go on back inside," he suggested.

Tony continued to stare after Vance until he was out of sight. Gibbs took him by the arm and guided him back inside the house. "Come on, Tony."

"What did he want?"

There was no mistaking the nervous edge in Tony's voice. Vance's unannounced visit had forced DiNozzo to raise his guard once again; Gibbs longed for the day when the younger man could maintain the level of confidence that he once had and not have to continually pick himself up off the ground.

Gibbs shut the door behind them as he motioned for Tony to have a seat on the couch. "That's our new Director," he began to explain.

"Am I supposed to know him?"

"You know _of_ him. Leon Vance."

"So he's taking Director Shepard's place?"

"Yep. He's been waiting for years for SecNav to pull out the big chair for him and now, he's ready to sit down."

Tony arched his brow. "And he just came by to say hello?"

He shook his head; despite his memory loss, Tony was sometimes too intuitive for his own good. "No, he came to deliver a message from SecNav."

Gibbs saw worry fade into disbelief as Tony asked, "The Secretary of the Navy?"

"None other."

"So what was the message?"

"SecNav wanted you to know that your job will be waiting for you whenever you decide to come back," Gibbs replied, visibly gauging Tony's response.

DiNozzo could speak volumes with his eyes; he used to be able to tell what his senior agent was thinking by simply looking into his eyes but now, it wasn't as easy. Over the past year, Tony had become more careful about revealing his thoughts and feelings; life on the streets had taken away his ability to trust and it would take a long time for him to regain the ability to believe in the goodness of people once again.

"My job?"

"Yep?"

"What's the catch? I mean, with everything that's happened, I find it hard to believe that I can have my job back just like that."

"I plan on dropping by SecNav's office and having a little chat; I'm not about to let you get caught up in another vendetta," he assured the younger man. "According to Vance, the only stipulations are you'll have to qualify on the range and pass the psych eval before you go back out into the field, but that's SOP for anyone who's gone through any kind of…"

"I know," Tony tiredly sighed. "You had to when you came back from Mexico and…" A smile spread across the dark haired man's face. "I just remembered something, didn't I?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, you did Tony. Actually, you were the only one who knew that." The team leader had not revealed the details surrounding his return to anyone except DiNozzo and the fact that Tony could remember something that he considered to be extremely personal was encouraging and gave him hope for the future.

The two men shared a moment of companionable silence, each quietly celebrating another small victory. Gibbs could almost see the wheels turning inside Tony's mind; whatever DiNozzo was considering was weighing heavily on his mind. When Tony finally spoke, Gibbs was surprised at the direction that the conversation was taking.

"Hey Gibbs?'

"Yeah?"

"How soon can I come back?"

"Do you think that you're ready?" Gibbs wanted nothing more than for Tony to tell him that he would come back tomorrow and they would pick up right where they left off, but he knew that in all reality, there would have to be a few hoops for Tony to jump through. He was determined to not push Tony into a hasty decision; if and when he returned, the choice would be DiNozzo's.

"I don't know," Tony shrugged. "But I have to do something. I think I enjoyed being an agent and I think I was good at it; maybe once I get back there, more of my memory will come back and I can figure out if being an agent is what I want to do with the rest of my life."

"Just for the record, Tony; you were the best agent I've ever worked with and as far as I'm concerned you still are," Gibbs declared. "You come back when you feel ready and not a moment before; when you do come back, I need your head in the game. I depend on you."

He was relieved by the sight of Tony's tired smile; Gibbs had been afraid that DiNozzo would have been put off by his words, but he had taken them as the compliment he had meant them to be.

"That's a nice feeling," Tony quietly mused. "I uh…I wasn't sure what…I mean, I had a feeling that I was kind of a pain in the neck."

"Only to McGee and Ziva," he assured Tony. "To me, you're my right hand man; you're the one that I can count on_ all_ the time."

Gibbs could sense that Tony was starting to feel uncomfortable; although DiNozzo's confidence was slowly returning, he was still plagued by insecurities that haunted his memories.

"Uh, you're getting mushy again, Gibbs."

"Just speaking the truth, Tony."

"Maybe, but the thought of me being useful takes some getting used to," Tony admitted.

"Tony, don't ever doubt yourself; you're not only a good agent but you're a good a man as well."

Tony's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Tony raked his hands through his hair and met Gibbs' piercing gaze. "So, I need to requalify on my weapon and see the department shrink," DiNozzo recalled, steering the conversation away from the emotional trail it had taken. "Doesn't sound too hard."

Gibbs watched Tony as he began to pace. There was a renewed energy about Tony that he hadn't seen in a long time and to the team leader, it was both refreshing and disconcerting. He was grateful that DiNozzo seemed to have a purpose once again but Gibbs was worried that it would be too much, too soon, and Tony was setting himself up to fall.

He quietly chastised himself for doubting Tony; DiNozzo had come so far both physically and emotionally since Gibbs had discovered him at the crime scene and he had no right to hold him back if Tony was ready to move forward.

"You can do it, Tony. I…I know you can."

"So, you wanna take me to a shooting range?"

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Gibbs asked. He knew that Tony still had to be hurting from his encounter at the bar, but it was going to be DiNozzo's decision.

"I'm sore, but I don't want to lie around here any longer."

"All right," the team leader conceded. "I'll take you to the range but you can't over do it. Ducky would kill you and me."

"Speaking of Ducky…can you call him?"

"What for?"

"I think I want to talk to him more about the hypnosis."

"Are you sure?" Gibbs wasn't convinced that hypnosis would bring Tony any closer to releasing those buried memories that were lying beneath the surface; maybe some things were simply meant to stay buried.

"I don't know," Tony admitted. "I just feel like I need to do something…I can't explain it but…"

"You don't have to explain it; whatever you decide, I'm behind you all the way."

"Thanks, Boss."

"You're welcome." Gibbs grabbed his keys out of his pocket and opened the door. "Are you ready?"

"Let's go." Tony was out the door and headed towards the car before Gibbs could pull the door closed.

He slid into the driver's seat as DiNozzo buckled his seat belt. As they pulled off and headed down the street, he heard Tony sigh as he fumbled with the hem of his shirt. "Something wrong, DiNozzo?"

"Not really; I uh…just have one more favor to ask but I've already…"

"What is it?" Gibbs knew that he would do anything in his power to honor DiNozzo's request.

Tony nervously cleared his throat. "I want…I want to go home. I _need_ to go home."

"There's no rush," Gibbs insisted. "You're welcome to stay at my place as long as you…"

Tony shook his head, defiance and determination blazing in his eyes. "No, Gibbs. It's past time. I keep saying I'm moving forward and so I have to do this. I appreciate everything you've done for me but I've got to learn to stand on my two feet."

Gibbs felt a lump form in his throat. He swallowed hard and gave Tony's shoulder a gentle squeeze, "Do you want to stop by before or after the shooting range?"

DiNozzo graced him with a genuine smile. "After is fine."

"All right then, let's head to the shooting range."

As the two men continued their journey, they each silently contemplated the days that lay ahead.

**One more chapter to go and this story will be done! I thought I could do it in this one but it would have been 25 pages long! LOL Anyway, I do apologize for the delay; between my birthday, scouts, school, and preparing for the Mother's Day Banquet at church that my teenage girl's class was sponsoring, I haven't had time to turn around. School is almost out, so hopefully things will be easier. Thank you all for sticking with me and I assure you that I will resume my other stories just as soon as I finish the last chapter of this story. I appreciate the loyalty and support; it means so much to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter and hopefully next week, the last chapter will be up! **

**As for the next story, it looks like it will be the Baltimore, but keep in mind, it will be AU from the now canon story we just saw! **


	39. Chapter 39

I have split the final chapter to make it easier to read; if I hadn't, it was going to be about fourteen pages long! LOL Thank you all who have stayed with this story and who have supported and encouraged me so much; it's been a long ride but I hope it was worth it. So, enjoy the ending and I'll have a few more comments for you at the end. Chapter 40

The team leader was quietly observing the conversation that was currently occurring between Tony and Ducky as they discussed the possibility of DiNozzo undergoing hypnosis in order to regain even more of his memory. Tony's new found determination to discover his past was both encouraging and worrisome but his support of the younger man did not waver; it was time for him to start letting DiNozzo spread his wings and fly and after almost losing him, that was easier said than done.

Before meeting with Ducky, he and Tony had visited the shooting range at DiNozzo's request, another step in him reclaiming his life as Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. He recalled that there was no hesitancy as Tony cradled the weapon in his hand, caressing it as if he were reacquainting himself with a long lost lover. When Tony finally took aim and shot at the paper target, he had nearly bested his previous high score; it was another boost for Tony's confidence that had been shattered during his captivity.

He silently chastised himself for allowing his mind to wander as he forced himself to focus on the discussion that was still going on between the other two men. Ducky had apparently just finished explaining to Tony the procedure that he would be subjected to if he selected to undergo hypnosis and although Gibbs could still sense DiNozzo's hesitancy, there was a calm acceptance radiating from Tony as he listened intently to the ME.

His gaze remained fixed on Tony as the dark haired man carefully considered the physician's words. After Ducky had finished his justifications as to why he felt hypnosis would help DiNozzo, the three men sat in companionable silence, waiting for Tony to make the next move; after all, as Gibbs continually reminded himself that the choice on whether to proceed with the hypnosis belonged to DiNozzo.

Gibbs was shaken from his silent thoughts when Tony asked his opinion; he was glad that DiNozzo was beginning to value his judgment once again.

"So, what do you think, Gibbs?" Tony wanted to know, trying to hide his nervousness behind his inquisitive orbs.

"I can't make that decision for you, Tony," the team leader replied. "It has to be your choice."

"I know that; I'm just asking your opinion."

"Personally, I don't put a lot of stock in hypnosis, but that doesn't mean anything; if you think it will help you remember, then go for it," he urged, hoping that his doubts wouldn't influence Tony's decision.

Tony began to pace, something that Gibbs had seen him do countless of times when he was trying to reach for the missing piece of the puzzle that would usually blow their current case out of the water. Gibbs stood up and intentionally placed himself in the younger man's path. He placed his calloused hands on Tony's shoulder and waited for DiNozzo to meet his gaze.

"You don't have to make this decision now," he informed Tony.

"But…"

"Tony, listen to me. You've come a long way in a short time; in the past couple of days, I've watched you take huge steps in your recovery and you shouldn't feel bad if you're not ready for this."

"I thought I was," Tony countered. "I thought that I could do this, but I don't think I'm ready. Maybe I should just talk to my counselor and attend the AA meetings for a while. Maybe I'm better off not remembering everything that happened; maybe it's just better if I take it a day at a time."

"There's nothing wrong with taking things slow. You're supposed to start seeing your counselor next week, right?"

"Yeah. Twice a week to start with."

"Then if you're unsure about the hypnosis, talk to her and…"

Tony stepped back and looked at him, a mixture of surprise and delight etched in his youthful features. "Her?"

Gibbs couldn't help but grin at Tony's obvious pleasure at discovering that his psychologist was female; it was more than encouraging seeing the tiny idiosyncrasies that made up DiNozzo's character resurfacing after a long sabbatical. The former Marine delivered a quick and efficient head slap as he teasingly ordered Tony to focus.

"Thank you, Boss," Tony quipped as he gingerly touched the back of his head.

"As I was saying, talk to your counselor and see what she has to say about it and then go from there. When and if you decided to undergo hypnosis, I've got your six."

"I know."

He stood aside, watching Tony's slow movements as he approached the ME; it was evident that the injuries he had received from the bar fight still plagued him. Gibbs tamped down his anger at those who had hurt his boy as he silently vowed once again to always watch Tony's back.

"Ducky," Tony began. "I didn't mean to waste your time; I really thought I was ready."

"You didn't waste my time, Anthony," the ME assured him. "You will know when you're ready."

"I hope so."

"You will."

Gibbs nodded his approval as Ducky patted Tony on the back. "You just do what you have to do to get better," the compassionate physician insisted.

"I'm trying, Duck."

The team leader followed Tony as he made his way over to the elevator. The two men had one more thing on their agenda and although Gibbs had tried to convince DiNozzo that he was always welcome at his house, the agent had wanted to go back to his own home.

"Anthony?" Ducky called out. "Mother is looking forward to seeing you on Saturday! She is most anxious for her Italian gigolo furniture mover to resume his place as her partner."

"I'll be there," Tony promised. "You're still coming by to give me a refresher course, right?"

"Of course. I'll be at Jethro's about 7 if that works for you."

"No, I won't be there. Come by _my_ apartment."

With a slight shake of his head, he quelled Ducky's questioning stare. "Your apartment?" the ME inquired.

"Yep," Tony replied with a smile. "I'm going home!"

The two men stepped inside the elevator as Gibbs pushed the button to shut the door. The older man made a mental note to take Ducky aside and explain to him DiNozzo's decision to go home; he knew that the doctor would understand and would support Tony and right now, the encouragement of his friends is what he needed and Gibbs would make sure that everyone was on the same page.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Tony stood on the sidewalk and stared at the brick building, quietly summoning the courage to enter into the strangely familiar place that he had once called home. He had finally managed to quell the butterflies that had been fluttering in his stomach ever since he and Gibbs had left NCIS; of course, Gibbs' driving didn't help the queasiness that had been plaguing him.

When they had pulled up in front of the building, it had taken him a few seconds to summon the courage to get out of the car. Gibbs had given his shoulder a squeeze and with a curt nod, had opened his door and waited patiently for Tony to join him; he knew that the team leader would have waited all day if necessary in order to empower him to make various decisions as he continued to reclaim his life.

He had made great strides in the past couple of days but at the moment, he was having a hard time accomplishing the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other. Glancing over at Gibbs, he nervously grinned as he blew out a pent up breath. "I guess I'm ready," he announced, not bothering to hide the uncertainty in his voice.

"You sure about this?" Gibbs asked.

"I think so; I know it's something I need to do."

"You can stay at my place as long as you want to; I've kind of gotten use to having you around."

"I appreciate that but it's time for me to go home. Besides, I kind of look at your place as a refuge; a place I can go when things get to be too much. I have a feeling I'll be there a lot," he sighed.

"You're welcome any time but I still expect you drop by and help me rebuild my boat."

A pang of guilt swept over Tony as images of him destroying the former Marine's basement in a fit of rage came flooding back to him. His doubts, insecurities, and distrust of people had forced him back to a time where he had known nothing but pain and fear; unfortunately, Gibbs' prized boat had been a casualty of his anger and destructive behavior.

"Yeah," Tony muttered, unsure of what else he could say.

"I didn't mean to uh…"

"Tony, it's in the past," Gibbs reminded him.

"But Gibbs, it's like destroying the Holy Grail; you put your life in that boat and…"

He was silenced by the piercing glare that the older man was now directing at him. "Sorry, Gibbs," Tony apologized. "I'm trying."

"I know you are."

Tony cleared his throat in an effort to ease the awkwardness between them. Nodding towards the front door of the apartment building, he was now grateful for the much needed distraction of returning to his home. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way," Gibbs replied.

It never occurred to him that he shouldn't even know which floor his apartment was on much less which apartment was his; Tony entered the building and walked by the elevator, glancing at the note posted on the door. "You would think they would have fixed the elevator by now," he mumbled, automatically heading towards the stairwell with Gibbs in tow.

"You would think," the team leader agreed.

"I wonder how long it's been out."

"It was working a couple of weeks ago when I came by and checked on your place."

"How often did you come by?"

"At least once a week."

Tony leaned against the fire door that opened to his floor, surprised and overwhelmed by Gibbs' admission; he wasn't sure how he felt about Gibbs being in his home but in the scheme of things, he wasn't sure that it really mattered.

When he finally summoned the desire to speak, all he could say was, "Thanks."

"I guess I just needed a physical reminder that you weren't really gone," Gibbs explained.

"Everyone else had given up?"

"Not everyone, DiNozzo. Not everyone."

He turned and faced the silver-haired man, a smile dancing upon his lips. "Thanks for not giving up on me, Boss."

Gibbs gave him a rare grin. "You're welcome, Tony."

Tony swallowed hard, burying the feelings that were hovering close to the surface. The past few days had been nothing but a roller coaster ride of emotional ups and downs and it had been a struggle for him to stay on an even plane.

Not trusting himself to speak, Tony opened the door and stepped into the hallway; it was just a few steps before he was standing in front of his apartment door. He glanced over his shoulder at the ex-Marine. "This is it, isn't it?"

"Yep," Gibbs answered, handing Tony the key to unlock the door.

Taking the key, he opened the door and stepped inside, hitting the light switch and illuminating the room. The first thing that garnered his attention was the large screen television mounted on the wall surrounded on either side by wooden towers that held a myriad of DVD collections. He slowly made his way over to the entertainment center and began to scan the movies. "Airwolf, Magnum, P.I., The Fugitive…are all these mine?"

"Yeah, they're all yours."

"Wow…I can't believe all these are actually mine."

"Well, they are," Gibbs confirmed.

"And these CD's?"

"They're yours too."

Tony picked up a case and stared at the cover. "Coltrane."

"You've always been a fan of jazz."

"I don't…don't remember."

"It'll come back to you," the team leader reassured him. "Give it time."

He nodded as he continued to study his strangely familiar surroundings. Each room spoke volumes of an extremely organized individual, another aspect of Tony DiNozzo's personality that he was going to have familiarize himself with. When he had been living on the streets, organization was the last thing on his mind; survival had become a priority and there had been many days that he had been amazed that he had awakened to live another day.

Tony walked into his bedroom and found himself drawn to the closet. Opening the door, he discovered suit after suit hanging in a row followed by a series of white dress shirts and a few sweaters. There were as twice as many ties as suits hanging on the tie rack prompting him to wonder what one person needed with so many ties. He was having a difficult time picturing himself in the designer clothes; had he always had such an expensive taste in clothing?

"I guess I'll remember owning these as well," he mumbled to himself. "Did I actually wear these suits?"

"Pretty much all the time."

"Why?"

Gibbs shook his head, obviously amused by Tony's question. "Started wearing them when you started NCIS; every once in a while you dress casual but most of the time it's Armani, Gucci, or some other designer I can't pronounce."

He scrutinized Gibbs' wardrobe, his own grin lighting up his face. "Let me guess where you shop. Sears?"

"Been a loyal customer ever since I retired from the Marines."

"That long, huh?" Tony teased.

"Yep."

Tony reached out and fingered one of the dark suits. "I can't imagine…do you think I could try one on?"

"Tony, those clothes are yours; you can do whatever you want to with them."

"Maybe if I dress like I used to, maybe it will spark something."

"It might," Gibbs agreed. "It's worth a try."

"Yeah."

Gibbs gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he made his way back to the living room. "I'm going to see if anyone has restocked your fridge and cabinets. Abby was supposed to go grocery shopping for you this morning."

"Thanks, Gibbs."

"Any time, DiNozzo."

He waited for the team leader to shut the door and then pulled a suit from the closet. Within a few minutes, he was staring at himself in the mirror, subconsciously tying his tie as if he had been doing it all his life. Who had taught him how to tie? His father? Gibbs?

Although the suit was loose on his frame, Tony stood tall as he continued to study his semi-gaunt form. He had only begun to put the weight back on that he had lost during his time on the streets; his appetite had been steadily improving since he had stopped drinking and he was beginning to feel like a human being and not a desperate drunkard who couldn't even remember his own name.

He buttoned the jacket, his sense of self-respect seemingly increasing a few notches. "Not bad, DiNozzo," he mumbled to himself. "Not bad at all."

Tony made his way to the living room to discover Gibbs still plundering through the kitchen. "The good stuff's up in the top cabinet all the way in the back. I had to move it when McGee stayed over when his apartment was being fumigated."

Gibbs stopped in mid motion, his gaze radiating surprise and pride at the fact that Tony had managed to pull another memory out of the black abyss of his mind.

"Did I just remember something?" Tony asked, his voice laced with a hint of hope.

"Yep. It was a couple of years ago and you and McGee didn't talk to each other for three days."

"Well, he's not as perfect a houseguest as one would think."

He watched as the team leader reached up and pulled down a bag of his preferred brew, sniffing it to test for freshness. "I'll get a new bag as soon as possible," Tony promised. "Once I start getting a paycheck, that is."

"You should start getting your back pay soon."

"That'll be nice. First thing I'm going to do is pay you back for everything."

"Tony, I don't want your money; having you back in one piece is enough for me."

"But Boss, I…"

"This isn't up for discussion, Tony."

For all the progress that he had made, he was still unnerved by realization that not everyone in the world wanted something from him. The ability to trust others was something that he was still working on, but it was getting easier every day. There was no longer a doubt in his mind that he could trust Gibbs with his life.

"Thank you. Again."

"You're welcome. Again."

He smoothed out his jacket in a nervous attempt to change the subject; Tony still had a lot of difficulty with the emotional aspects of any conversation. He held out his arms and gave a slow turn. "So, do I look like Tony DiNozzo now?"

"You look good, DiNozzo," the team leader grinned.

"I like this suit. I think I'll wear it on my first day back but for now, I'm gonna change. Ducky is coming over to teach me how to play bridge; I have a date on Saturday."

"Are you sure that you want to stay here? You're more than welcome to stay at the house."

"I know, but I have to do this. It's for the best."

Gibbs raised his hands in surrender. "All right, but just so you know, the offer still stands."

"Thanks but I'll be fine."

"I have no doubt about that."

Tony followed the former Marine to the door. "I do have a favor to ask."

"What is it?"

He opened the door for the Gibbs. "I need a ride to Ducky's house tomorrow. I'm not sure what time but I'll find out from Ducky and let you know."

"Bridge is at 2."

The two men greeted the ME as he entered the apartment. "Really Anthony, you're going to have to talk to your superintendent about the elevator; you have a number of elderly neighbors who don't need to be walking those stairs."

"I plan to Ducky," he vowed.

Gibbs gave Tony a pat on the back. "I'll pick you up around 1."

"I'll be ready."

Tony nodded his silent thanks to the former Marine. As he watched Gibbs stride down the hallway towards the stairwell, he finally began to understand the bond between him and the team leader that so many had told him about; he and Gibbs didn't need words, only trust.

He closed the door and turned his attention back to the ME who was in his kitchen putting water on the stove. "I thought I'd fix us some tea," Ducky announced.

"Sounds good. I'm going to change and I'll be right back."

"That's fine and by the way, that suit is a nice look on you, Anthony."

Tony smiled at the ME. "Thanks, Duck."

"You're welcome. Now, you hurry back and we'll start our review of Bridge 101."

He went into his room and began to change his clothes, carefully placing the suit back on the hanger and in the closet. After wearing nothing but hand me downs and rags for the better part of the past year, he still couldn't fathom that these fine clothes actually belonged to him. There were so many things that he had taken for granted including shelter, food, clothing, and most of all, friends. Although it would take him time to readjust to the life he was trying to reclaim, he knew that he would do so with a new appreciation of what was truly important to him.

"Anthony, are you ready?" Ducky called out.

"Coming Duck," he replied, his spirit nearly soaring as he joined the ME in the kitchen.

Taking a sip of the tea that Ducky had prepared, he took a seat across from the kind-hearted physician.

"The mind is a complicated machine," Ducky began as he dealt the cards. "Many times, people who have suffered physical or psychological trauma simply push things to the back of their minds until they need them; I'm prepared to wager that when it comes to bridge that you will remember more than you think you will."

Tony picked up his cards as his familiar mega watt smile danced upon his features. "I don't know about that but I'm willing to give it a shot."

"That's the spirit, Anthony!"

It had been a long time since he had felt such a sense of pride and hope; he had to admit that it was a refreshing change from the despair and fear that had nearly consumed him. "Well, Dr. Mallard," Tony said. "Let's see how the cards fall."

**The conclusion is in the next chapter. Hang on…we're almost done! **


	40. Chapter 40

**Once again…thank you all for hanging in there!**

**Chapter 41**

Gibbs and Ducky sat on the couch in the ME's living room watching the bridge game in the middle of the room. Victoria Mallard and Tony DiNozzo were partners against two other women who were friends of the elderly lady; each of the ladies were obviously completely enamored with Tony, none more so that Ducky's mom.

The team leader recalled the reunion that had taken place just a couple of hours ago. He and Tony had just arrived at the Mallard home and were greeted by Ducky, who had called for his mother to join them.

_***flashback***_

_Earlier that afternoon_

"_Mother, can you come here for a moment?" Ducky called out._

"_What is it, Donald?" Victoria Mallard inquired, as she made her way to the front door surrounded by her Corgis. "Can't you see that I'm…"_

_Ducky had stepped aside so she could see their visitors. She had never seen the team leader; she only had eyes for one man. "Anthony!" she cried out. "Where have you been?"_

"_Remember Mother," Ducky patiently began to explain. "I told you that Anthony had been ill and that he would come back as soon as he was able to do so."_

_Ignoring her son, she laced her arm through Tony's and escorted him inside. "I've had the most dreadful string of partners since you've been gone," Victoria exclaimed. _

"_I'm back now," Tony assured her. "I just hope I can remember everything. I've been having a bit of trouble with my memory."_

"_That's all right; I'm used to that. Donald has trouble with his memory as well. We're going to be playing Margaret and Vivian today; they're new to the Bridge scene but both of them are very devious. They use recipes to table talk during the game, so if you hear them talking about a club sandwich, be wary."_

"_Yes ma'am."_

"_After we're done, I need for you to move my armoire; I've been after Donald for weeks, but you know he has those memory problems."_

_Tony pulled out Victoria's chair and waited patiently for her to take her seat. "Have I ever told you that for a gigolo, you have the most impressive manners?"_

"_Thank you, Mrs. Mallard."_

_Taking the seat opposite from her, he greeted the other two women who couldn't keep their eyes off them. "Shall we begin?" Tony asked the women._

"_By all means," Victoria insisted as she glared at their opponents. "Eyes to yourselves, girls; he's all mine. Isn't that right, Anthony?"_

_He winked at the flirtatious woman. "You've got that right, Torie."_

_***end flashback***_

"This day has been a long time coming," Ducky stated, finally breaking the companionable silence between them. "I haven't seen her quite so happy in a long time."

"I know how she feels," Gibbs conceded.

"I'm sure you do. The son of your heart is back; it's nothing short of miraculous."

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee and then set it down on the table in front of him. "He's coming back to work on Monday."

"So soon?"

"He says he'll never know if he's ready unless he tries."

"That sounds like Anthony."

"Yes it does." The team leader grew quiet again. Although Tony was talking a good game, there were times that Gibbs wasn't sure if he was following his heart or the desires of those around him. He wanted nothing more than for Tony to come back; he was the heartbeat of their team and since his disappearance, they had all been simply going through the motions.

"I just hope that it's not too much, too soon. I want him there because he wants to be there and not because he's expected to be there," the Marine reasoned.

"Time will tell," the ME proclaimed. "No matter what he decides to do with his life, he knows that he can trust us to support him unconditionally. He still has a long road and he will have good days and bad days but…"

"He doesn't have to do it alone."

"Exactly."

The two men turned their attention back to the game at hand. Tony and Mrs. Mallard had just claimed victory, prompting the elderly lady to make her way around the table and sit in Tony's lap. She then proceeded to plant a kiss on the dark haired man's cheek. "I knew that we'd crush them! I missed you, Anthony!"

Gibbs couldn't contain his grin as Tony hugged the petite woman. "I missed you too, Torie."

"This calls for a celebration," she declared. "Donald, we are having a guest for supper!"

Her gaze fell on the team leader; her intense scrutiny was beginning to cause him some discomfort but he was a Marine and he was determined to withstand the wily ways of Victoria Mallard. "Who are you?" she demanded to know.

"Jethro Gibbs, ma'am. I work with Donald and Tony," he informed her.

"Well, you can help Donald with dinner after you see Margaret and Vivian out."

"Mother!" Ducky exclaimed, astonishment etched his cultured voice. "Where are your manners?"

Ignoring her son's attempt at chastisement, Victoria took Tony by the arm as he rose from his seat. "I'll show you which armoire I'm talking about and then Contessa needs a bath and remember…"

"She likes it rough," Tony finished.

"Mother, Tony doesn't need to be moving your furniture," the ME warned. "He's still recuperating from…"

"That's what he gets paid for! He is a furniture mover! Honestly Donald! I don't know where your mind is at sometimes. Now come along, Anthony."

Gibbs shook his head in amusement as Tony glanced back over his shoulder and shrugged. It was good to see DiNozzo laugh again, knowing that there had been a day when he never thought he would hear the sound of Tony's contagious laughter again.

He joined Ducky, who was making excuses for his mother's behavior as he bade farewell to the other guests. As the ME closed the door, Gibbs noticed the exasperation etched in the older man's features. "I'm sorry, Jethro; it seems that she's taken all leave of her senses."

The team leader shook his head. "Don't apologize, Duck. She's happy to have Tony back and she doesn't want to share him; I can certainly understand that. So if I help with dinner, do I get to stay? I figured with your mom preoccupied with Tony, that you could use the company."

"Most definitely. Shall we adjourn to the kitchen?"

"After you."

Gibbs could hear Tony attempting to move the armoire and he found himself praying that the younger man wouldn't push himself too hard; DiNozzo was still recovering from his injuries and he would not let his own personal comfort get in the way of helping someone else.

He thought back over the past few months and was amazed how everything had worked out, especially for Tony. Like Ducky had said, there would be good and bad days, but thankfully, the good days were beginning to outweigh the bad, giving Tony a better outlook on life and a more positive frame of mind.

The trust that had been shattered during Tony's captivity was slowly taking shape once again and becoming stronger than ever before. It had taken a lot of pain, physically and mentally, to figure out that their bond had not been broken, it had just been cracked and with a little glue, they had both discovered that a crack can be repaired. Although, the crack changes the appearance of the bond, it holds it together so that whatever obstacles are placed before them, the trust and admiration for each other that he and Tony had would always see them through.

**Epilogue**

Tony sat at his desk studying the piece of paper in his hand. After three weeks, he had finally been cleared to come back to work full time; his proficiency and psych evaluation had been completed and he had been deemed fit for duty. He was still seeking counseling outside of the office and attending AA meetings on a regular basis but as far as NCIS was concerned, he was ready to resume his place by Gibbs' side.

"Tony?"

He glanced up at Ziva, her concerned gaze studying him intently.

"Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

He blew out a pent up breath. "I'm better than all right; I'm finally legal again," he announced, holding up the piece of paper in his hand.

"You mean that you're back as a full time field agent?"

"Actually, I'm back as a full time _senior_ field agent," he playfully corrected.

"Does Gibbs know?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course he knows; he knows everything! He's like creepy that way and…he's standing right behind me, isn't he?"

Ziva nodded and quickly resumed her work, leaving Tony to defend his own comments. He turned around and smiled at Gibbs. "Hey Boss. I was just a…" The team leader's familiar glare silenced the agent. "I think I'll just shut up now."

"Good idea," Gibbs grumbled as he made his way towards his desk. "Gear up!"

Tony shot to his feet and picked up his backpack. He was ecstatic as Gibbs threw him the keys to the car. "You drive, DiNozzo."

"On it, Boss!"

Those three words were music to his ears. For the first time since he had returned to work, things simply felt right. He was finally home and although there were times when he was drawn back to his days of Todd Gibbs, but with his friends by his side, they always reminded him who he was.

As the elevator doors closed, he put on his sunglasses, his smile reaching from ear to ear. He was Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and for the time being, all was right with the world.

**The end!**

**Wow! We made it! Thank you all so much for sticking with me. As you know, I generally like to reply to each individual review, but every time I try, send me an Oops! Message and tells me I'm using an invalid url, so if anyone knows a way around this, let me know. So, please know that I do appreciate each and every one of you who have dropped me a line and hopefully, I'll be able to thank you individually as soon as I figure out what is going on with the review reply.**

**If you want to pm me, that is fine and I promise I'll reply back! Again, thanks to each of you for making a special place in your heart for this story! Now, I'm off to update my other two stories and begin my Baltimore story! **

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